#monster!remmick

You try to keep your breathing steady despite the rapid hammering of your heart; it's so strong that it pulses behind your ears and up your throat. The figure in front seems to be scanning the ground for something, likely the other wires, when you spot a tug at the metal chain he appears to be holding.

"Whoa, steady. What is it, hm?" It isn't clear who the man is speaking to until you see another figure creep out from the shadows. You swallow thickly as it stands, inhuman in the way it hunches over as it sniffs the air. It's difficult to make out much, even with your eyes settling to the low light, but you think you spy the glint of metal around their head, and a collar attached to the chain.

Suddenly, their head snaps over to your direction, and there are two pinpricks of red where the eyes should be.

The sight of it makes you gasp, and almost immediately, they rush towards you. Automatically, you grab your bag as you burst into a sprint. There isn't a thought in your mind that could scream louder than the instinct powering muscle and bone.

You can barely hear the snap of chains and a voice sounding out a command from behind you as you run. "Go fetch." The confidence through that word makes your heart leap, and the back of your knees go damp with sweat. You know that beyond the clearing at the bottom of the hill, the treeline gets thicker and harder to navigate. It's the only thing that could give you a chance of safety. When you actually break free of the woods and make it down to the clearing, you think you can do it.

The air is cold enough to tear at your lungs, and your legs bark in agony from travelling all day, but you don't stop. You can't afford to. The pounding of footsteps from behind is virtually silent; the occasional snap of twigs is the only clue that you're being chased. Panic floods you as the sounds get closer, until ultimately, you feel the graze of something sharp on your shoulder as you get knocked to the ground. The denser edge of the forest is ripped away from your sight in moments, your only means of escape dashed from mere feet apart.

The collision into the ground is hard enough to knock the air from you, rattling your teeth as you taste the rot in the earth underneath. Whatever is straddling you isn't letting up, shoving your face down even as you thrash around under them. A sick laugh bursts out from above, much too close, as something wet drips onto your neck.

Dirt cakes your fingernails from where you scrape and claw the earth below, struggling to get your breathing under control. Your attacker's hand grips both of your wrists tightly, pinning them as you shiver, but you refuse to beg for them to stop, not wanting to give any satisfaction. The fierce sight of their hands makes your brows furrow in confusion, eyes widening when it becomes clear that the fingers are much longer than they should be. The tips of them resemble talons more than they do any nail you have ever seen.

There's a low, gritty growl, and you freeze up when you can hear what sounds like a bloodhound sniffing close to your ear. The cold press of metal against your skin makes you flinch away, but it only follows you again, along with a soft panting that curls around the side of your face. The heat of it is thick with the scent of iron, enough to make your stomach turn.

Though you try not to make a sound, a faint cry leaves you as the panic replaces your control. No matter how much you fight their grip or kick your legs, nothing gives, and pretty soon, you're too tired to keep up the effort. When your struggle lessens, you're shoved onto your back as if it takes no effort, and your arms are restrained against the ground again. That's when you stare up, expecting either man or some bizarre strain of infected, but you find neither.

Instead, above you is full of gnashing fangs that drip with something viscous and cold between the bars of a muzzle. Male in appearance, completely stripped bare with deep-set eyes that glow red like the end of a poker or coals through the snow. There is no chain attached anywhere, as you saw before, though you do see a worn collar around his thick neck, unsuccessfully covering the thin, black-looking veins blooming across the skin underneath. As he settles on top of you, you want to scream. It sticks in your throat until the only noise you're making is the small, shocked hiccups where your body refuses to function properly.

When you try weakly to struggle again, it's only brief, and you can only squirm underneath him to no avail. A gnarled sigh drips from his parted mouth, those red eyes widening a fraction before relaxing. To your horror, his hips give a slow, firm drag over yours in response to your movements, and you feel something give a twitch against you. Your breath hitches as he does it again, the movement stuttering as his eyes remain fixed on yours.

No.

Something scared slips out of your throat, wavering and small as you tremble underneath him. That twitch against your clothed sex has you shake your head desperately. His stare, seemingly not fully present, is locked onto your face as you feel his length hardening against you. There's a disgust lurching inside of you when his hips force the seam of your jeans to rub against your clit, and you hear a pleased sigh from above.

"That setup was pretty clever, with the bells an' all. But he can smell the smoke of your fire miles away." The voice you had only briefly heard returns to you, tearing your attention away. "I assume..." Black trainers enter your field of vision first, then the purple velour of his tracksuit as he approaches the two of you. His words seem to distract whoever is on top of you, enough that they lean back a little and settle their stiff cock against you.

Your breath stills as the new man crouches beside you, and you see his face for the first time. His mouth twists into a cocky smile, and under the moonlight, it's enough to know that his teeth don't flash white; they're almost the same shade of yellow as his hair.

"Who do we have here then, eh?" His brows lift in question, expecting an answer. Your lips tightly press together, trembling as you stay silent. There's a sharp exhale through his nose as he huffs, then places his hand on his chest, just above the several gold chains hanging there. "Ah. Rude of me, I am Sir, Jimmy Crystal." His hand gestures to the other man or beast above you. "I see you've already met Jimmy Fangs." You're too scared to be confused over the details. There's another heavy jerk of his cock against you, followed by a lusty sound as he grinds against you.

When you don't answer, Jimmy laughs as though one of you had made a joke. "I'm only teasin', he's not a Finger, so he doesn't get a title." There's a dismissive wave of his hand as he stifles a laugh at his own joke, though it's completely lost on you. "No, Remmick here is more of a uh.. Well, a hellhound, I suppose." His eyes drift to Remmick's groin, the movement of another drag of his hips catching Jimmy's attention. An excited giggle bubbles out of him with a 'Oho!' as he looks back at you.

Jimmy's hand reaches out to take your jaw, and the thick rings he wears are cold against your skin. He forces you to face him, appearing to have lost interest in a name. If he ever had one anyway. "…and it seems, he's taken a bit of a shine t'ye."

The thought of this… You hesitate to think of 'Remmick' as a thing, but realistically, what other word could you use? It must be some new strain of the virus, and the concept of having to keep the strain muzzled is beyond frightening. "H-He's infected." You manage to stammer out, barely audible even to your own ears.

A thoughtful grin spreads across his features, something calculating underneath that makes your stomach drop. "Well now, that's a pretty voice-" Jimmy's thumb strokes the skin under your bottom lip before pulling away. "-And no, a different kind of demon. Still got a nasty bite, mind." Jimmy gives the muzzle a tap, earning a quick jolt away from Remmick.

Jimmy inhales as he sits back on the grass, looking over the two of you with a playful shrug. "Ordinarily, I'd feel more… charitable, per se. But my pet needs a new toy."

New toy.

It's said so casually, as though you were clothes hung up in a store, being browsed to see how you might fit. The question of what he means doesn't come out; you can only shake your head, scared because you already know the answer. "No…" That makes Jimmy's lips curl into a sly smile, and you try to pull your wrists away from Remmick, but it hurts where the claws pinch.

"Aye." Jimmy scoffs at you, and you see him produce something sharp from his pocket. "I'll tell ye exactly what's gonna happen, so it's no surprise." Another smirk, but you can't tell if he's being genuine or if there's sarcasm lining the words. "I'm just that kind."

You decide that Jimmy is holding a blade, and it makes you stop moving when he leans forward to bring the pointed end to the buttons on your jacket. "I'll get rid of these clothes-" With a flick of the steel, the buttons are gone in an instant, and the material goes loose. It makes you cry out in protest as the reality finally sets in. You're already taking rapid breaths when the knife slides under the hem of your shirt, making a short tear up. "-And we're gonna see if my pet wants to keep ye once he's fucked ye." Your breath hitches at the same time as Jimmy's hands take the bottom of your shirt, either side of the cut in the fabric. The tears building up in your eyes blur your vision, and you're unable to stop.

With a vicious tug, the flimsy material is torn in a straight line all the way up to the neckline, and your tears finally break over to stream down your face. Before Jimmy can slice through your bra, the blurred shape of Remmick gets closer until the cold muzzle is pressed against your skin. You shiver at the feeling and clamp your mouth shut, scared as you feel his tongue slide over the wet streaks through the bars.

"S-Stop-" Your voice is strained, then cut off with another drag of Remmick's hips against yours. He takes up almost your entire vision, unwelcome to all of your other senses and before he's even pulled away from your face,

"Toys don't need clothes. Remmick, take 'em off." Jimmy nods to Remmick, who, with a grunt, sits back to rip your jeans and underwear off of you in one. The moment he lets go of your wrists to do it, you attempt to wriggle away. His claws are too quick to pin you by your throat, and there's a low bellow rumbling in his chest that leaves no room for interpretation. It's a direct warning to stay.

It's so cold with you completely exposed. You can't even press your thighs together to stop Remmick with the way he slots himself between them, and in the moonlight, you only panic more when you get a glimpse of him.

He's big.

Unnaturally so. Thick and dripping from the flushed head of his cock as he starts to rub himself against your bare folds. The unwelcome sensation makes you flinch away from him, and you hear the slide of fabric from the side of you.

When you look over, your stomach drops. Jimmy's hand is lazily stroking his own cock as he watches both of you, mostly playing with the head and metal piercing that's nestled at the tip.

"Play with her tits, get her all wet." Jimmy's lips remain parted after he speaks, and he slowly wets his top lip as he stares at your chest. Remmick gathers your wrists with one of his hands, his other slides down to grope your breast through the fabric of your sports bra. He hooks the claw of his index underneath, and just like Jimmy's blade, there's little resistance as he shreds up in one fluid motion.

The second your breasts fall free, you hear a groan from Jimmy that curdles in your ear. Then Remmick is palming you roughly enough that if your nipples weren't already drawn tight from the cold breeze, his long fingers certainly would have done the trick. Your eyes slip shut when he roughly pinches one between his knuckles, and in addition to the shivering it causes, you end up writhing underneath him without meaning to. Your face burns from being forced to endure it, but more than that, Remmick actually manages to force strained noises out of you that have you ashamed. The humiliation of it all is too much to bear, the undeniable feeling of your slick leaking out against Remmick's cock has your face heating up so much you know it would burn to the touch.

There's a small moan from Remmick, and you catch him looking down between you, as though he might have also just felt it. He ruts against you, slow and drawn out, head dragging through the wet folds enough to bump against your clit in a way that has you breath hitch. You could sob at how wet you sound; it's obvious that Remmick can hear it too.

When the blunt head of his cock catches at your entrance, you both flinch, then drool is dripping onto your bare torso as you shake your head in disbelief at it all. Every drop makes your heart pulse louder in your ears, until he leans back to let it slide down the bars of his muzzle and onto his cock. When he finally pushes into your entrance, everything else is drowned out by the ringing in your ears.

Desperation and disgust claw under your skin as he rocks into you. Remmick is too thick for you to comfortably ease around him, and you're not nearly relaxed enough to take it easily. A series of throaty grunts punches out of Remmick, bullying his way inside of you until he bottoms out with a carnal growl. You're completely frozen, your presence cut off as you feel the head of Remmick's cock nudge against your cervix.

To the side of you is the noise of shuffling; you don't spot the way Jimmy's hand reaches out to catch Remmick's drool in his palm. Or the way he sits back to let his wet hand glide over his cock. Jimmy seems to have found a rock close by, big enough to lean back against with his free hand resting behind his head as he soaks in the sight of you.

When Remmick moves back, you move with him as he pulls out halfway, then your entire body is shoved onto the ground with every brutal thrust he takes. Whatever string of fate leading you to this point doesn't take pity on you, as the pain of the stretch doesn't let up, no matter how slick your cunt is against him. Your eyes begin to glaze over as Remmick's nose flares under the muzzle. In the background of your mind, you know it isn't only slick, and the torn pain shooting through you is enough to make you whimper.

Remmick mistakes the noise for something else entirely, and his grunt gives way to thin moans as he sets a rhythm into you.

"How's that feel? She… nice and tight fer ye?" You stare at the sky as Jimmy half keens over to Remmick.

The stars are so pretty tonight, dancing with light even though they're trapped in the sky's inky grip.

Remmick's strained voice is rough as it answers Jimmy. Desperation clings to each sound, and you distantly register that it's the first words that you've heard from Remmick. "S'good… So good." He just keeps repeating himself over and over again. In any other situation, you might have felt stunned to learn that he can talk.

Jimmy's voice sounds more excited, and the glide of his hand over his cock matches Remmick's pace. A revulsion courses through you for being able to notice it. "Harder, m-make her tits bounce fer me." Remmick's hips speed up; every harsher thrust has new tears forming, and your breath is fighting. Worse than any other outcome right now, the assault on your walls is beginning to feel good. You could scream if there were any way to get air into your lungs without choking on it.

Your brows pinch as you try to fight the heat that flickers inside of you. The only thing left for you to do is focus on the sky, even as you feel Remmick force your hips to grind back against his; you hope that's the case, anyway. You refuse to acknowledge how his hands aren't touching your hips, how you would never move your hips to match his movements.

You could vomit.

The noise to your side doesn't consciously translate as Jimmy as he moves closer. It isn't until his hand reaches for one of your breasts that you realise you were completely dazed. You grimace at the way he kneads your flesh, rough in a way that has his rings pinch the skin between them.

The movement earns a low growl from Remmick, and you feel Jimmy's fingers almost go. Jimmy flashes a huffed smile to Remmick, sneering with a command. "Share yer things. Can't use that mouth anyway, can ye, lad?" Jimmy raises a challenging brow to Remmick, making it sound as if he's doing Remmick a favour by lowering his mouth to your nipple.

Jimmy traces the tip of his tongue around the stiff peak, shifting his gaze from Remmick directly to you as he takes it into his mouth. Your skin muffles his groan, though you feel it reverberate through your chest all the same. When he suckles, it's harsh and rhythmic, all the while Remmick is still fucking up into you relentlessly, enough so that he's rocking your body as he ruts.

By the time you even realise that Remmick let go of your wrists to hold both of your thighs apart, it's too late. You don't have the energy to move them, or do anything but take each full drag of his cock, and between him and Jimmy, you're too weak to fight the pleasured whines that melt out of you.

Jimmy's grin darkens around you, giving a quick nip as he just barely pulls away, cock pulsing in his hand as he doesn't let up his strokes. "Use his name, let him know whose ye are."

The demand makes you shake your head. You can't bring yourself to willingly do that.

Jimmy's voice drips with venom, and you hear the sharp sound of a blade being unfolded. Then it's pressed to your collarbone, and you give him as much of your attention as you can manage. "Do it, or you'll get a nasty cut."

The threat of the blade makes you swallow thickly, and the promise of more pain you hadn't considered forces your lips to move. "Re… Rem-mick." The taste of his name is acrid between his thrusts. "Remmick."

Calling out to him carves a possessive sound from his chest, and his hips snap up into you harsher than before. Enough so that it forces genuine moans from you, and you could cry, disgusted with yourself at how good it feels. Even more so when the thick drag of his cock hits your G-spot enough that even the disassociation isn't taking root.

Jimmy seems to catch it through the expression on your features, and his eyes don't leave your face as he leans back with a grin. "Stop." A broken whine slips out of Remmick, unwilling to stop at the command until Jimmy sticks the blade into Remmick's forearm. There's a snarl and a flash of the fangs enclosed by the metal bars, but you hear the threat in the way his chest rumbles with a guttural noise. The only sign Jimmy might be spooked by it is the quick movement away he takes to dodge a claw. He swallows, "Turn her over."

Remmick glares at Jimmy, brows knitted together in their stand-off until you feel Remmick slowly pull out of you. Every inch without him has your gut twist with the loss you didn't want in the first place. The sensation only confuses you, not that you have time to think about it. You're suddenly staring at the ground, unaware that they had moved you onto your hands and knees until the tickle of grass brushes your face. It's the only sense of anything soft you can fathom. Before you can even begin to think about it, an intrusion hooks into your mouth, dragging your head up by the upward force on the roof of your mouth.

Jimmy's fingers. You gag on the way they drag you up enough that you already know what's going to happen. No matter how you try to hold back fresh tears or hiccups around the grubby digits, you can already see his cock level with your face.

"If I feel so much as a nibble, he'll be the last of your worries… Howsat?" His head tilts in question, but you don't have the words to answer. You only nod to show that you understand; it was this or it was your life.

Jimmy's eyes narrow at you, displeased with your response, or rather, a lack of. Something hateful flashes over his expression, and in an instant, you feel the hard slap of his cock to your face. It makes you wince, and Jimmy only chuckles at the reaction. "When I ask something, I expect an answer."

Your face burns as it forces you to answer. "…Yes."

"Yes…?" Jimmy's head tilts to the side unexpectedly as his hand wraps around his length.

Your lips tremble as your voice shrinks. "Yes, Sir."

There's a much happier sound that hums from him, and he slowly pushes the head of his cock to your lips. "There we go, good lass. Open wide." You're hesitant, but manage to open up just enough for him to push past your lips. The taste of him makes you cringe, dirty on your tongue and cold where the metal piercing is.

When you wrap your lips around him, there's a slow groan that leaks out of him. You almost forgot about Remmick until he's finally grinding up against your slick again. The reminder makes your eyes widen as he lines himself up with your entrance.

The way Remmick slowly sinks back into you with a groan has your walls clenching around him, gripping him tight without permission. This time, you know for a fact that his hands find your hips, and as he begins to thrust into you, it rips a quiet moan from Jimmy as the motion forces you to stuff more of his cock into your mouth. "Good lad, Remmick." You swear you hear a whimper from behind you, and Jimmy's the back of fingers find your cheek to stroke it in a mock display of affection. "Maybe ye'll give us some new pups, hm?" Your mind doesn't let you process that new fear yet.

Any time Remmick pulls out, you try your best to move away from Jimmy, to breathe, to do anything so that you don't completely shut down. But with the way Remmick's hitting into your sensitive walls with the new angle, it's deep enough that you're both moaning into the night air.

Jimmy's fingers grab at your hair as he fucks deeper into your mouth, choking you as his eyes slip shut. "S-So warm… Lucky we- Oh hell- Lucky we found ye…" You can only swallow his cock as it pulses against your tongue and reaches the back of your throat. The metal stabs into your palette with each movement, somehow making you more violated than anything previously. Through the tears, it isn't clear to you what his expression looks like, only that there are thin whines that are beginning to seep out of him. A horrid mixture of hope and revulsion takes root inside you, wanting it to be over as soon as possible and yet not wanting him to finish anywhere near you.

Revulsion wins, you knew it would by the taste of Jimmy's pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as he whines. His eyes scrunch as you can only get forced onto him faster with how Remmick possessively sinks into you. You hate it, and as your eyes scrunch up to prepare for Jimmy's release, to your surprise, he pulls out of you completely. It isn't clear what's happening until his cock keeps bumping against your face, and you see him stroking himself. He's slack-jawed with ragged breaths until finally, Jimmy's release is dripping down your face. You feel it cool against your face, mingling with your tears as your gaze drops to the floor in shame.

From the sound of panting behind you, Remmick isn't far behind. His movements are becoming more erratic, and despite how much you try to force it away, a heat curls awkwardly inside you until it snaps. A choked sound is ripped from Remmick as your walls reflexively convulse around him, and it doesn't matter about your efforts; your mouth hangs open as you cry out with the pleasure-pain of it all.

"Mine.. Mine…. Mine..." Remmick's words are punctuated with thick grunts in your ear as he hunches over you. You can hear the need in his huffs and quick breaths, then you feel an odd sensation at your entrance. The feeling has your mind grow dizzy as the base of Remmick's cock begins to swell, and he slams forward one final time to lock himself in with you by the knot that has formed. The pain is too much for you. It makes you yelp, and Remmick is only capable of drooling over your shoulder as his hips stutter against yours.

"Oh shit, he really likes ye, doesn't he?" You can't even address Jimmy's amused question as spurts of heat suddenly flood your core in waves. The growls in your ear eventually taper off into whimpers, and the metal of his muzzle is pressed against your neck. You can't help but whine quietly in response to the gentle swell of your stomach, filled with Remmick more than should be possible.

You wish you would die already.

Remmick mistakes your frantic hiccups and gasps for something else unknown to you again, and you can only cry harder at the arm that snakes its way underneath you. As if it were a cruel trick on the universe's part, his claws pull you closer to him the way a partner would after making love. What's worse is that he doesn't seem to be trying to leave you at all.

"Best get comfy, that knot's gonna keep us here a while." Jimmy's voice floats down to you with a twisted sound, something comical layered throughout the lilt.

You hadn't spotted a bag on the ground before now; it's to the side, and Jimmy is already riffling through the backpack when you notice. He's crouched over, then whatever he pulls out, he taps it at one end.

It looks like a syringe.

Dread courses through you, and you go stock still as you brace yourself for the worst, until he completely walks past you to go to Remmick instead. Whatever dark fluid is inside the needle forces a barked cry from Remmick as you feel him flinch. Though you don't witness the black veins in Remmick's neck bulge in response, you feel the reaction almost immediately; Remmick's arm goes slack under you, and the rest of him seems to relax above you.

Jimmy steps back into view as he wipes off something from the end of the syringe. Then he pauses for a moment, looking to you with a considering grin. "Keeps him settled.. Well-behaved. This'll be your job now, lass."

Pairing: Monster!Remmick x Black!Fem!Reader/Plus-size Reader - One Shot, A.U. (No Beta) A.N.: My second attempt at Monster!Remmick, and first attempt at writing Black!Reader (since it's the last day of BHM) and Plus-size!Reader. This was written very last minute, so I apologize if there's aspects of the story that don't make sense, or there's mistakes/typos. I hope ya'll enjoy! Likes, Comments & Reblogs are appreciated. Thank you in advance to those who take the time to read! 🖤❤️ Content Warnings: MDNI, 18+, Somnophilia (light), Non-Con, Monster Remmick, Exhibitionism, Dacryphilia, Squirting, Drool, Sloppy Kissing, Fingering, Rough Sex, Forced Orgasm, PiV, Creampie, Forced Creampie, Loss of Innocence, Biting, Overstimulation, Praise, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Blood Drinking. Summary: You decide to go camping with friends, deep in the forest of the Southern U.S., unaware of the Monster lurking in the shadows waiting for the perfect moment to strike. W.C.: 5.2k Divider Credits: @strangergraphics @sweetmelodygraphics @hereindreamlandpng

MASTERLIST

You were never the outdoors type, but you had promised your friends you would try it at least once, and now here you were deep in the woods with three of your closest friends. Jasper and Ophelia, who were a couple, and Lily. While they set up camp, you and Lily set out to collect firewood. It was early Spring, so the nights here were still cold.

You continued down the marked trail, shining your flashlight ahead as Lily scanned the trees, when she suddenly stopped, and you did the same.

"Did you hear that?" She whispered.

You rolled your eyes, unconvinced, knowing she enjoyed scaring you any chance she got, and the same applied to you. "I'm not fallin' for that. You think I'm that gullible?"

She dropped the act, then turned to face you as she smiled and laughed before you both continued walking.

The land you were camping on was privately owned by Jasper's parents, so you both knew it was only the four of you on the property. As you carried on the conversation with Lily, the faint sound of a twig snapping in the distance made both of you stop mid-step. The silence stretched, broken only by the wind rustling through the trees.

"Let's just get the wood and go," Lily urged, and you nodded in agreement.

Lilly began cutting down a tree, the rhythmic thwack smacking into the wood as you scanned your surroundings with the beam of light. You didn't see or hear anything unusual. Maybe you were just imagining things.

Just as you were beginning to calm down, you spotted a pair of glowing crimson eyes far off in the distance. You blinked to clear your vision, and they vanished just as quickly as they had appeared. Your brows knitted together in confusion, and you pointed the light in the same spot you saw the glowing eyes, but there was nothing there.

It thankfully didn't take long for her to cut down enough wood to fill two bags. You carried one while she carried the other, and you neither of you wasted any time getting back to camp.

The moment you returned, you felt an eerie pickle at the back of your neck, like something was watching. You turned sharply, scanning the woods again, but nothing.

Jasper chucked at your nervousness while he stoked the fire. "City girls," he scoffed, shaking his head.

The tent was a few feet away from the fire and was large enough to fit six people. So there was plenty of room for everyone to have their own space inside.

You set down the bag of wood beside Jasper and grabbed your backpack to set up your area inside the tent. Lily was already inside, and that left you with the space closest to the entrance. A soft sigh escaped you as you began the process of unpacking. It took you longer than it should have, you couldn't decide if you should sleep with your head or feet closest to the entrance.

The night closed in, and the only source of light was the moon and fire where you and your friends sat. You drank from your bottle of alcohol as you stared into the flames, barely listening to the conversation going on around you.

Hidden deep within the tree line, the Vampire leaned casually against a tree. His eyes fixated on you with predatory fascination. The scent of your blood carried on the wind, warm and intoxicating. He inhaled deeply, fingers flexing as he fought the instinct to pounce.

Jasper leaned forward, the firelight casting shadows across his grinning face as he lowered his voice dramatically. "Ya'll ever heard of the story 'bout the Man of Black Hollow? My daddy swore it was true...said his granddaddy saw him back in the mid-eighties."

Ophelia rolled her eyes while Lily scoffed softly.

"This land," Jasper continued, tapping the ground with his shoe, "used to be a part of his huntin' grounds. Southern fella, dressed in a light blue button-up and suspenders. Said he'd lure women into the woods..."

Your grip on your bottle subtly tightened as you scanned the woods before settling on Jasper; he continued with the story.

The fire crackled, sending sparks spiraling upwards as his voice took on a theatrical rasp. "See, folks say he just ain't any regular human, supposedly he's a vampire. Older than the trees and got a hunger that don't quit."

Lily snorted, nudging your knee with hers. "Bet he'd take one look at you and run screamin'," she teased. But you barely registered the jab, your fingers tracing slow circles against the condensation on your bottle. The hairs on your neck stood upright, not from Jasper's tale, but from the unseen presence lurking in the dark.

"A vampire?" You asked with a hint of skepticism.

Ophelia seemed mostly disinterested, as if she'd heard the story too many times. Her disbelief didn't stop Jasper from sharing more.

The vampire grinned, fangs glinting in the moonlight. "Oh, darlin'," he murmured to himself, voice dripping with amusement. "If you only knew how real and close the monster really is..." His gaze never left you, following the curve of your neck where your pulse fluttered.

Jasper tossed another log into the fire, "my granddaddy swore he saw him once, just standin' at the tree line, smilin' like he knew somethin' awful was comin'."

Lily shuddered dramatically while Ophelia finally perked up. "Wait," she said slowly, "didn't you say he saw red eyes?"

Your stomach dropped when Jasper nodded, and your breath caught. Your fingers tightened around the bottle as you watched Ophelia down the rest of her drink, hiccuping afterwards, then lean over to Jasper as she whispered something into his ear. A sly grin slowly appeared on his face before he spoke.

"So...do ya'll think we could get the tent to ourselves for a bit. Like an hour?" He asked, and Ophelia softly added, "please."

"Fine," you and Lily said in unison.

"You get one hour," you agreed reluctantly. You both watched as he tossed Ophelia over his shoulder and hauled her towards the tent.

"Stay on your side of the tent, please." You begged urgently, calling out to them as they disappeared inside, zipping the door shut.

The fire burned lower now, casting long, flickering shadows across the clearing. Lily stretched lazily, tossing the remnants of her drink into the flames.

"Well, suppose it's just you and me. Unless you wanna listen in on...whatever that is." Lily muttered, standing and brushing the dirt off her jeans.

You snorted, pushing to your feet just as a gust of wind sent the trees whispering. The sound made you shiver. To pass the time by you suggested walking the perimeter of the lake a few times, and Lily agreed. You look up, grabbed your flashlight and jacket before heading towards the body of water. Lily stumbled, obviously drunk, as she laughed and steadied herself.

The moonlight reflected off the water, your footsteps crunching softly on the pebbled shore. Lily hummed off-key, swinging her flashlight beam across the water. Suddenly, a snap could be heard, and you both froze. The sound came from somewhere beyond the tree line.

Your pulse hammered against your ribs as you slowly turned your light in the direction of the noise, illuminating nothing but swaying branches.

"Probably just a raccoon," Lily said, but her voice wavered.

A half hour had passed when you made your second lap around the lake, and your legs were starting to ache. The effects of the alcohol were more noticeable now. Your body felt a bit heavier as you spoke softly to each other to fill the uncomfortable silence.

"Do you think the story Jasper was tellin' is true?" You asked, keeping your eyes on the trail ahead.

Lily smirked, amused and nudged you gently with her shoulder. "You're seriously freaked out by that? It's just some dumb campfire tale."

But you couldn't shake the uneasy feeling, the way the woods seemed eerily quiet at random moments, you couldn't ignore the unnatural stillness. Or the fact that the red eyes you saw were, in fact, real. Maybe Lily was right; it was your first time camping, and the area was unfamiliar to you. You exhaled deeply, trying to release the tension in your body as you headed back to camp.

By now, an hour had passed, and you were shivering. The campfire was barely lit as you both approached the tent. Luckily, no noises were coming from inside. You unzipped the door, they were both fast asleep, and stepped inside, removing your shoes before changing into your pajamas. The faint sound of the door being zipped closed, Lily's doing since she offered to put out the fire, could be heard behind you.

As you were drinking from your water bottle, Lily was already in her sleeping bag, snoring softly. Sleep wouldn't come for you; every rustle of fabric, every distant noise beyond the tent made your muscles tense. The alcohol's warmth had faded, leaving you cold and hyperaware of how the tent's nylon walls seemed too thin, too fragile against the vast, waiting dark outside.

Just as exhaustion finally dragged you under, the tent's zipper opened an inch. Slowly, and deliberately. Like something was testing to see if you were really asleep. You didn't stir as the zipper crept higher, revealing a sliver of moonlight and the toe of an old leather boot.

The scent of your fear earlier had been delicious, but this, your sleeping breath, slow and vulnerable, made his gums ache. Remmick crouched beside your sleeping bag, the fabric of his clothes rustling softly as he tilted his head. "Now ain't you just a sight," he breathed, words smooth and barely audible.

Moonlight caught the faint gleam of his fangs, and they lengthened. Just slightly, his tongue darted out to catch a bead of saliva threatening to fall. He knelt closer, his knee pressing into the nylon floor with a faint crinkle. One finger hovered above your lips, not quite touching.

His fingers found the sleeping bag's zipper, tugging it downward with agonizing slowness, the sound drowned out by Lily's snores. The fabric parted, revealing your curves beneath your baggy clothes. He exhaled through his nose, nostrils flaring at the warmth of your skin radiating through the thin fabric. "Gods have mercy," he murmured, fingertips ghosting along the hem where it had ridden up as you slept.

The shirt had twisted in your restlessness, exposing a sliver of bare stomach, soft and warm, begging for teeth. His thumb brushed the skin there, feather-light, before trailing higher. The fabric stretched taut over your chest, and oh—those peaked nipples pressing against the material made his jaw clench. A smile curled his lips as he leaned down, breath fanning your collarbone. "Mmm, cold out, ain't it darlin'?" He whispered.

His hand slid beneath your sweatshirt, fingers splaying possessively across the swell of your stomach, relishing how your breathing hitched even in sleep. Your thick thighs shifted unconsciously, pressing together. He used his knee to nudge between them with practiced ease. The scent of your wetness bloomed, mingling with the wood-smoke and sweat.

Remmick’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them down just enough to reveal your black underwear, and a patch of curls on your pubic mound, dark against your warm-bronze skin. His tongue dragged across his fangs as he traced a single fingertip along the hem of your panties. "Sweet thing, don't even know what's comin'," he murmured in a rough voice.

The shirt rode up further as he pushed it toward your neck, exposing the full, heavy swell of your breasts barely contained by a black cotton bralette. His breath hitched, just slightly, as he admired the sight of you. One thumb brushed over a peaked nipple, reveling in the way your body arched subtly toward his touch even in sleep. "Made for ruinin'," he mused, dragging the pad of his thumb in slow circles.

His free hand unbuttoned his own pants with practiced ease, freeing the thick aching length beneath. Precum beaded at the tip as he gave himself a slow stroke, never once looking away from your sleeping face. "Bet you'd scream real pretty," he whispers, thumbing the slit just to hear the slick sound it made. Too loud in the quiet tent. He clenched his jaw and suppressed a growl of frustration, forcing his rhythm to stay slow despite the way his hip wanted to buck.

The nylon floor crinkled under his shifting weight as he maneuvered himself between your spread thighs. The heat radiating from your pussy made his cock twitch against your curls as they peeked out from the top of your underwear. He exhaled sharply through his nose, arousal thick in the air, and rolled his hips experimentally. The softest whimper escaped your parted lips, still half-asleep, and his grin turned feral.

Remmick’s hand clamped over your mouth the second your eyelids fluttered, his other hand pinned your wrists above your head. "Now now, darlin'," he purred against your ear, "you wake them up, and I'll snap their necks one by one while you watch." His hips pressed down insistently, the thick ridge of his cock ground against your soaked folds through the fabric. "Understood?"

You nodded as your heart fluttered frantically, your body trembled from the adrenaline rush. Or maybe it was the cold or your fear, you couldn't tell. You could feel the cool night air against your exposed skin. Your eyes widened in shock as you felt the broad head of his cock press against you through your underwear.

He smirked, pleased with your cooperation and chucked softly, releasing your wrists to trail a single fingertip down your sternum. Slowly, savoring every hitch in your breath. "Good girl," he praised. His hips rolled again, the friction was maddening, even through the thin layer, and his fangs ached with the need to sink into your throat. "Tell me somethin', sugar. You ever been fucked by someone who knows how to ruin you?"

The silence stretched between you, thick with your ragged breathing and the distant rustle of the wind outside. His grin widened at your stunned expression. That told him everything. "Didn't think so," he says, dragging his cockhead through your cunt, the damp fabric clinging obscenely. "Bet you never even dreamed of bein' taken like this."

Your lips trembled beneath his palm, your breath catching as his nail traced lower, circling your navel before slipping into your panties. He inhaled deeply at the heady musk there, fingers brushing through coarse curls. "Mmm—soaked already, " he hummed in approval, hooking a finger under the fabric. "Ever been with anyone before?"

Your panicked gaze involuntarily darted toward Lily, just for a heartbeat, but it was enough. Remmick froze, crimson eyes glowing, then narrowed as he followed your line of sight. His lips curled back, revealing his fangs in a silent snarl, his hips jerking forward, pressing harder into you. "Ohh," he breathed, "fuckin' hell."

It was something that only happened a handful of times. Mostly out of curiosity or boredom, and you both agreed to keep it between you and Lily.

The feeling of his cock twitching eagerly against your cunt pulled you out of your thoughts. Your eyes widened as you took in the unnatural crimson of his eyes, the same ones you had seen earlier in the woods. The truth settled in your gut. Jasper's story was true, vampires were real, and one was casually pressing his erection against you.

You swallowed hard, pulse hammering erratically as his palm still muffled any noises that may escape you.

His index claw grew, catching on your underwear before he gently tugged, ripping through the fabric. The sound was barely audible over Lily's snores. Cold air kissed your exposed folds, followed immediately by the scorching heat of his tongue dragging up your slit in one, filthy stroke.

"Mmm—just as I imagined," he groaned against you. His fangs grazed delicately against your labia as his thumbs spread you wider.

The vibrations of his chuckle sent tremors through your clit as he circled it lazily, nostrils flaring at your scent. "Quiet now," he murmured between licks, the words vibrating against your slick flesh. "Wouldn't want your friends wakin' up to see how prettily you drip for monsters, would we?" His tongue plunged inside without warning, curling just so to make your hips jerk, only for his iron grip to pin your pelvis down.

Your hips twitched helplessly beneath his grip, torn between arching into that wicked mouth and scrambling away. The tent filled with the faint wet wounds I'd his mouth working you over. Slow, deep strokes alternating with cruel flicks of his tongue against your clit.

When you whimpered, he bit down gently on your inner thigh, just enough for twin beads of blood to well up. His groan was pure sin as he lapped them clean.

"Mm—fuck, you're perfect," he rasped, dragging his fangs higher along your thigh.

The sting of his bite melted into molten pleasure, your thighs trembling as his tongue circled your clit with torturous precision. Ever suppressed moan vibrated against his palm. You could feel the smugness radiating off him.

His chuckle vibrated against your clit as he released your mouth only to immediately replace his palm with his lips, swallowing your gasp while his tongue plunged inside you in tandem with the thrust of his fingers.

The taste of you, copper from your thigh, salt from your sweat and alcohol from your breath, made his cock twitch wildly against your inner thigh.

He dragged his free hand up your body, fingers wrapping around your throat just tight enough to feel your pulse racing against his palm.

Drool slicked your joined lips as he deepened the kiss, fangs nicking your bottom lip just enough for the tang of your blood to flood his senses again. His hips rolled instinctively, grinding his aching length on your thigh while his fingers curled inside you, searching for that sweet spot that'd make your legs shake.

"That's it," he whispered against your mouth, breath chilling the spit-slick skin, "let me hear those pretty lil' noises."

Your muffled whimpers vibrated against his lips as his fingers crooked just right, sending sparks up your spine. The cold air contrasted sharply with the searing heat of his mouth. Everywhere he touched left you trembling. Torn between hear and something far more dangerous. Your nails dug into the sleeping bag beneath you, hips bucking involuntarily against his hand.

The moment your thighs clenched around his wrist, he knew he had you. He could taste the surrender in your shallow breaths, feel it in the way your pulse stuttered beneath his fangs where they grazed your throat.

Drool connected you as he broke the kiss just long enough to lick it away and kiss you again, deeper this time, his tongue mimicking the relentless thrust of his fingers.

"Mmm, sweet thing's makin' a mess of herself," he murmured against your lips. His hips rolled forward, smearing precum across your clit while his thumb circled your clit with precision, relishing every hitched breath you couldn't suppress. The way your back arched when he twisted his fingers, stretching you around the intrusion. "Gonna ruin you proper," he promised in a hushed voice. He withdrew his fingers only to press them past your lips. "Taste," he ordered, pupils blown wide as he watched your tongue dart out obediently.

Your lips closed around his fingers, tongue swirling between them to lick your own arousal clean, his composure nearly cracked. Bloodlust and lust warred beneath his skin as he watched you. Without warning, he thrusted three fingers back inside, curling upward to stroke your G-spot that made your eyes roll back.

"There we go," he murmurs against your throat, fangs dimpling the skin as your walls flutter around him. "Let's see what sounds you make when I wreck this pretty cunt."

Your breath hitched from the sudden fullness, making your hips buck. The stink of hint fangs in your throat sent a jolt through you, equal parts terror and desire. Your hands tightly gripped the sleeping bag beneath you. Every drag of his fingers sent sparks up your spine, your thighs trembling with the effort to stay quiet.

His chuckle was dark as he slowly withdrew his fingers again, watching the way your hips lifted. "Already beggin' for more." He teased, pressing the slick digits to your parted lips.

As your mouth wrapped around his fingers, his hips jerked forward involuntarily, the head of his cock catching against your slickness with a filthy sound that made Lily stir in her sleep. He froze, nostrils flaring as he waited, then smirked when she merely rolled over, completely oblivious.

Remmick’s lips curled into a feral grin as he dragged his cock through your folds, slow and deliberate, savoring every shudder it wrenched from you. The scent of your arousal was thick between you.

The second you gasped from the pain and pleasure as he pressed just the tip inside, he gripped your hip hard enough to bruise. "Easy now, darlin'," he crooned, voice rough, while his free hand traced circles on your clit. "Just the tip, just to see how tight that sweet cunt grips me."

His smirk widened as your walls fluttered around that first invading inch, breath hitching when he deliberately rolled his hips to stretch you further. The nylon floor crinkled beneath as he leaned down, fangs scraping your collarbone. "Gods—knew you'd feel like heaven," he murmured, tongue darting out to catch the sweat beading along your throat. "Bet you'd scream real pretty if I buried myself all at once."

Your eyes flew wide as he pressed deeper without warning, the thick stretch burning even through your slickness. His chuckle vibrated against your skin when your nails dug into his shoulders, your silent scream muffled by his lips crashing down on yours. The kiss was all teeth and dominance, his tongue mimicking the relentless thrust of his hips as he bottomed out with a groan that shook his entire frame. "Fuck—tighter than I imagined," he rasped against your mouth, fingers tightening around your throat just enough to feel your pulse stutter.

Your thighs trembled around his waist as your body struggled to adjust; every inch of him felt inhumanly hot, stretching you to the brink. The cold night air contrasted sharply with the searing heat of his skin against yours, the scent of leather and something faintly metallic clinging to him. You arched when his thumb found your clit again, the dual sensations overwhelming as your walls fluttered around his girth.

His groan was pure sin as he pulled out agonizingly slow—only to slam back in with enough force to make the tent poles shudder. "There we go," he purred against your throat, fangs scraping the bite mark he'd left earlier. "Takin' it like you were made for me, darlin'." His hips set a brutal pace, the soft wet slap of skin echoing beneath Lily's oblivious snores.

The moment your walls clenched around him in helpless rhythm, Remmick's composure cracked, just for a heartbeat. His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to leave crescent-shaped bruises as he pistoned into you, each thrust dragging a muffled whimper from your throat. The scent of your arousal, thick with bourbon and fear and something deeper, made his vision swim red at the edges. "Fuck—fuck—" he growled against your collarbone, his rhythm stuttering when your nails scored down his back. He caught your wrist midair, pinning it beside your head with a feral fanged grin. "No marks unless I say so, sugar."

Your body arched instinctively when his thumb found your clit again, the dual sensations of his punishing thrusts and clever fingers sending sparks up your spine. Every inch of him burned hotter than humanly possible, stretching you in ways that bordered on pain, yet the slick sounds between you betrayed just how much your body welcomed it. A silent sob shook your shoulders when he angled his hips just right, hitting a spot that made your toes curl against the sleeping bag.

His chuckle was dark as your walls fluttered desperately around him, the rhythmic clench of your cunt dragging a groan from his throat. "There's my good girl," he purred, fangs scraping your pulse point as his hips snapped forward relentlessly. "Shit, squeezin' so hard." His fingers tightened around your throat just enough to feel you swallow, the vibration traveling straight to his cock.

The moment your breath hitched, high and thin, he knew you were close. His thumb circled your clit faster, matching the brutal pace of his thrusts as the tent filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin. "That's it," he growled against your ear, "cum for me. I wanna feel you ruin yourself on my cock."

Your back arched violently as the orgasm ripped through you, thighs clamping around his waist as your walls fluttered around him in helpless spasms. Heat flooded between you, soaking the sleeping bag beneath you. You could feel it dripping down your thighs and ass even as he kept pistoning into you without mercy.

His groan vibrated against your throat, half pleasure and half frustration, as your cunt milked him relentlessly. "Fuck—already?" he rasped, hips stuttering when your inner walls clenched around him in rhythmic pulses. His fangs scraped your collarbone, tasting salt and arousal as he forced himself to slow, just enough to savor the way your breath hitched with each shallow thrust. "Shit—thought you'd last longer, sugar." He laughed breathlessly.

Your thighs trembled around his waist, soft flesh yielding beneath his grip. Remmick's composure slipped another notch. Bloodlust and lust warred beneath his skin as he dragged his tongue up your throat, savoring the way your pulse rabbited against his lips. His hips rolled deliberately now, grinding deep to prolong the aftershocks while his fingers traced idle circles on your oversensitive clit. "Bet you never came that hard for anyone," he murmured against your damp skin; the possessive edge in his voice was unmistakable.

The scent of your climax hung thick, musky and sweet with an undercurrent of fear that made his fangs ache. His rhythm stuttered when your walls fluttered around him again, the slick squeeze dragging a groan from his throat as he fought to maintain control. He shifted his grip on your hips, nails biting into soft flesh just to hear you gasp. "Fuck—keep clenchin' like that, and I'll paint your pretty insides," he warned, voice roughened by restraint as his thumb pressed harder against your swollen clit.

Your eyes widened in panic as you shoved weakly at his chest, only for him to catch your wrists in one hand and pin them above your head with effortless strength. "Not in—"

His other hand clamped over your mouth again, stifling your half-formed protest as his hips snapped forward in a brutal thrust that stole your breath. "Shhh," he murmured against your ear, fangs scraping the shell, "you'll take it all—every last drop—and thank me after." His rhythm turned punishing, each snap of his hips driving you toward another climax whether you wanted it or not.

The moment your thighs trembled around his waist, your body betraying you with fresh slickness despite your fear, Remmick's nostrils flared at the scent. His free hand slid between you, fingers circling your clit with cruel precision as he leaned down to lick the tear streaking your cheek. "Mm—salty," he murmured against her skin, hips rolling in slow, deep thrusts that stretched you. "Gonna make you cum again while I fill you up, darlin'. Bet you never dreamed of bein' bred by a monster."

His composure cracked just slightly when your walls fluttered around him, your body responding instinctively to the relentless pressure of his thumb and the thick drag of his cock. The scent of your terror mingling with arousal made his fangs ache, but he maintained control, withdrawing almost completely before slamming back in. "There we go," he purred against your ear, voice rough as gravel, "just like that. Squeezin' me so tight—like you don't want me to pull out."

Your whimper was muffled against his palm as another orgasm crashed over you, thighs clamping around him desperately, slickness dripping between you. The rhythmic clenching of your cunt shattered his restraint at last; with a low snarl that shook the tent poles, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard, fangs sinking into your throat as his hips jerked erratically against yours. The taste of your blood, copper and spice and something undeniably yours, flooded his senses like aged whiskey.

His groan vibrated against your skin as the head of his cock pulsed against your deepest walls, each twitch pressing obscenely against your womb while your blood trickled down his throat. The dual sensations, your climax milking him dry while your life essence warmed his cold veins, made his vision swim crimson at the edges. Only centuries of control kept him from draining you completely; instead, he lapped lazily at the twin punctures, savoring the way your pulse fluttered beneath his tongue like a trapped bird. "Fuck—fuck—" he rasped against your damp skin, hips grinding in slow circles to prolong the aftershocks.

Your eyelids fluttered, your breath coming in shallow pants as exhaustion dragged at your limbs. Remmick withdrew with deliberate slowness, watching the way your spent body trembled at the loss. His cum dripped obscenely between your thighs, glistening in the moonlight filtering through the tent fabric. With a smirk, he dragged two fingers through the mess before pressing them past your lips. "Clean up your mess, sugar," he murmured, thumb brushing your bottom lip when your tongue darted out weakly. "That's it."

You swallowed weakly, the taste of him mingling with the copper tang of your own blood still drying on your throat. Every movement sent fresh aftershocks through your oversensitive body, yet through half-lidded eyes, you couldn't help but watch as he straightened with inhuman grace, buttoning his slacks with deliberate precision while his crimson gaze never left yours.

His smirk deepened as he plucked the torn panties from where they'd tangled around your ankle, tucking them into his breast pocket with a flourish that made you blush.

"Souvenir," he purred, running a clawed thumb over the damp fabric before leaning down to drag your sweatpants back over trembling thighs. "Wouldn't want your friends noticin' how well-used you are just yet." His fingers lingered at the waistband, adjusting the fabric with surprising gentleness for a creature who'd just wrecked you.

Exhaustion threatened to pull you under; his pupils dilated as he pressed a palm to your forehead, murmuring words in a language foreign to you that slithered through your veins like ice.

Your limbs grew impossibly heavy, eyelids flickering shut as the world blurred into soft-edged darkness. Only when your breathing evened out did he withdraw, straightening his cuffs with practiced ease while moonlight caught the fresh and faint scratches you'd left on his shoulders.

You’ve been with your boyfriend, Marcus, going on several months.

Marcus could be temperamental. He sure as hell didn’t like to repeat himself. He was nice enough as long as you listened. Being good. And did everything he said. For the most part you did. He’d shower you in love and gifts, but if you ended up at a disagreement it was as if he became a whole different person. Brutish, demanding. Terrifying even. So, you did your best not to push his buttons. That’s how your relationship was. His pretty girlfriend, which he knew, never had too many thoughts going on. Perfect for a guy like him

Just over a week ago, you and him collectively made the decision to move in together. You were still moving a few things, adding your personal touch to his place. As soon as you arrived there was an odd vibe to his home. An off feeling. A lingering aura hovering all around. You tried to disregard the feeling, tacking it up to new home jitters.

One evening, while you and your boyfriend were relaxing on the couch, you randomly brought up something that had been on your mind.

The basement.

The door was always closed. Locked from what you could tell. Sure, it was none of your business, but you were curious all the same. 

Your boyfriend immediately shut you down. Telling you it was off limits. 

Of course, you with curiosity—or stupidity—asked him about it anyway. A simple question.

Your boyfriend grew defensive instantly. Voice raised, practically yelling at you that it was a ‘private space’. Playing it off that you understood. Making a small joke that it was his ‘man cave’. However, when you saw the cold look on his face your laughter died out quickly. He was dead serious on this topic. All you did after was nod your head and promise to leave it alone. Dropping that matter altogether. This seemed to appease him and put him in a better mood.

And you did just that. Going about your day, walking by the basement door as if it were non-existent. For hours at a time your boyfriend would disappear down there. Never telling you what he was up to. You assumed it had something to do with his hobby.

One time, however, your curiosity got the better of you. You knew your boyfriend had gone down. So, you pressed your ear to the door.

Silence.

Not a sound. Not a scuff of feet moving. Nothing. No, you weren’t the smartest of people, but you knew all rooms had to make some kind of noise to them. Right? But not this one. It was so odd. Suspicious even. You constantly thought about it. More than you normally did. Mostly to yourself as not to make waves.

It was mid-afternoon and while sitting on the couch, you thought about the basement. The silence was bothering you. After some ‘research’, mixed with boredom, as you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Your ‘research’—which was just basic level googling—led you to believe there must be some sort of soundproofing. Or a really thick door.

On another evening, you were relaxing after getting home from an outing. Marcus walked into the living room. Leaning over the arm of the couch he kissed you. A light peck against your upside-down forehead. You beamed a smile up at him.

“What was that for?” You giggled.

“Nothing really. Can’t a man just give his girl a kiss?” Marcus chuckled back.

You reached up for his face, pulling him back down and into a proper kiss. Lips connecting and he hummed.

Pulling away to take a small breath. “Damn baby.” He bit his lip, coming around to join you. Sitting up you resumed the brewing make out session. His hand on your thigh, yours rubbing up and down his arm. He leaned into you and you shifted your body, making it easier for him to slot between you.

Lips firmly pressing to yours, his hand sliding up your thigh. A few fingers pressing against your core, through the fabric of your lounge pants. His middle finger pressed into the valley of your folds, pushing the fabric deep, slick already creating a wet spot.

“She’s purring already for me.” Marcus said with a smirk.

You gasp as he slides his fingers while you gently rock your hips.

“You going to miss me?” A firmer press and he had you all riled up.

“Where… where are you going?” Your body arched.

“Don’t you remember silly girl? I’m going to my buddy's place tonight. Not getting home until late.” He explains kissing you again as he lets you ride his fingers desperately. “But when I get home, I’m going to make sure this kitty gets all the attention she deserves.”

You shivered when he talked like that. Then his fingers were pressing harder and faster. You rolled your hips greedily. Soon a quick orgasm hit you from touch alone.

March chuckled. That dumb cute face of yours all blissed and scrunched fed his ego. You were so sensitive to a single touch it was honestly impressive. He deviously used that to his advantage. Kissing you once more before he sat back on the couch.

“Don’t miss me too hard. Use all those pretty ‘thoughts’ in that empty head of yours and think about my return.”

Your mind already went there as he got up. Pussy clenching in anticipation.

“Behave until I get back. Though I know you will.” He snickered and then he was off. Grabbing a backpack by the door then out he went. Leaving you alone, wet, and wanting.

You lay back into the cushions, eyes closed, taking a little rest to cool the heat of the moment.

Opening your eyes sometime later, after your small nap, you got up. One main reason was to freshen up. The other to get some food before deciding what to do for the evening. Making your way down the hall, hand lazily running along the wall, you passed the basement door. Your hand slid against the wood, as it did the door gave way slightly. Abruptly you paused. There was a newly formed gap between the parted door. The latch must not have been fully secured when Marcus left.

Had he forgotten to shut it properly?

You stared at the small void just beyond, biting your lip. A choice lay before you.

Close the door and move on. Or push it further open. To go against Marcus’ command and finally see what it was he kept so tightly secret.

Hand hovering in the air, frozen in place, thoughts going back and forth until your head hurts. Although you were curious, the repercussions if Marcus found out put a pit in your stomach.

Your heart thumped faster. Sometimes making decisions was difficult. Anxiety burst in your chest as you stood there. Then a faint distant sound.

Something metal caught your ear.

You leaned towards the gap making sure you weren’t hallucinating the sound. The loud pumping of your heart stirred something down below. Then the faint clank of metal rang again. Your stomach dropped. Without further thought your hand was pushing the door open.

Bare feet found the first step. Light from the hallway illuminated the path below. The wood underfoot creaked softly as you made your way down. At the bottom of the steps a small overhead light cast the room in a boring yellow glow. The basement wasn’t how you pictured it. You expected some transformed space. A cozy hovel filled with things that your boyfriend collected. Or a game room at the very least. Anything really. Instead, it was barren like a prison. Old concrete cracked and stained with dark smudges splattered everywhere.

Your face scrunched as you looked at the dirty floor. Uncertainty and confusion speed in. With the solid stone were long deep grooves. Animals perhaps. You bent down running your fingers over them.

What the hell was this?

It puts your nerves on end. The hair on your arms stands up. Fear twisting in your gut.

Was he keeping a lion or something down here?

Even as that thought left your head you recognized how ridiculous it sounded. There had to be a plausible explanation.

Standing back up, you realized just how dark it was down here, even with the light. Eyes daring around, scanning for a light switch—one you may have missed.

On the other side of the room two red pin pricks stared at you from the darker corner. The nimble slaps of your feet moving along the floor had its attention.

A soft clunk and the buzzing hum of lights switching on brought a smile to your face.

“There. Better.” You said out loud.

Off putting the drag of a chain being moved from behind you made you jump out of your skin. You forced yourself to turn around. The clinking of metal on metal echoed. Slow and threatening, retracting towards the corner of the room. At first, you saw an old mattress haphazardly—stained with blood and grime—laying on the floor. No sheets or covers, but there was a ratty blanket bunched and crumpled on top.

Your eyes wide, heart racing in your chest. Thoughts stumbling over each other. A low guttural huff—similar to an animal exhaling hard—cooled your blood.  Eyes growing wider, head turned, your body shook as you faced the source.

Red glowing eyes met yours, dimming to a normal blue in an instant. It didn’t even register that there were attached to a man.

A man… wait… WHAT?!

Your eyes were extremely wide looking at the scene before you.

There he was, standing hunched next to the god-awful mattress. Disheveled and dirty. Browning tattered tank top—stained in what you assumed was dried blood—and ripped pants powered with a layer of dirt.  He was barefoot, rusted shackles around his ankles, which made movement difficult. Chains were attached traveling upward merging to chains that connected to cuffs that were melded together around his wrist. Then there was yet another chain coming off a collar around his neck, that disappeared somewhere off behind him. The chains were taut, made to be uncomfortable, and restricted movement. To keep a prisoner in an awkward hunch. It looked painful. The skin around the cuffs and shackles were raw, chaffed for endless hours of tight pressure and rubbing.

The worst part of it all was the cage muzzle around his face. Locked in place, inaccessible to his arms. There was a feral hunger behind those eyes, but also surprise. Like you weren’t the person he expected to see.

“My god…” You gasped as a whisper, hands slowly covering your mouth.

He half-shuffled a step toward you.

You began to tremble. The fear, the left-over arousal staining your underwear, and the scent of HIM all clung to you.

Your breath staggered when he shuffled closer until the chain caught, straining against some anchor point on the wall behind him, halting his progress. You could only stare—dumbfounded and in shock. Breath hitching, hands shaking. It definitely didn’t help when those eyes dipped slowly, tracing over your whole body. Trailing from your shoulders, the curves, down to your legs, then all the way back up to your face. Drool pooled from the corner of his mouth. The way a ravenous beast in a horror movie would. It dripped past the metal cage of the muzzle onto the concrete below.

Inadvertently you watched the drops fall. You wanted to scream, but it caught in your throat. Instincts conflicted. One part telling you to run. The other kept you suspended in disbelief.

“I must be having a bad nightmare.” Whispering a quiet thought with a quivering lip.

“Ain’t no nightmare darlin’.” The voice that spoke was rough. Gravely. Shivers wracked your whole frame.

As your head slowly lifted back to his face, he was already meeting your gaze. Staring at you, studying you. His head tilts when you find yourself taking a scared step back. That’s when his eyes soften as if reminding himself that he must look horrible. Telling himself that you’ve never met, nor saw him before. It dawns on him quickly that you might be his salvation. Freedom from this prison. You may have the scent of the bastard who was keeping him here, but your expression reveals you had no clue.

Pity.

He could use that to his advantage if the cards were right. First, the task was to calm that racing heart he could hear. It made your blood rush through your veins, making it sing to him. Hunger had to wait. Though it didn’t stop more drool from pouring out.

With heavy breaths, chest heaving, mind racing. It spoke… No. He spoke. Why was that such a surprising notion? All in all, he looked human. Except the way he looked at you… and the drool. Still frozen in place, unsure what to do. Another step back, almost tripping over your own feet you thought if you took your eyes off him something bad would happen.

The rattle of the chains as his connected hands went up defensively, made you pause.

“Woah there.” Calm sounding, low vibrations as he talked to you—as if you were a spooked deer. “No need to be afraid. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

Blinking a few times, his voice seems to calm some of your nerves. That was not the voice you imagined. The demeanor and body language signified he was harmless. Yet the chains, shackles, and muzzle told a different story.

So, why was he down here?

This time you slowly glazed over his appearance. Fear taking a temporary back seat as empathy creeped in. Old and new wounds, that looked to not have healed right. He was dirty; you couldn’t tell the last time he would have been cleaned. Tank top nearly in tatters it might as well fall off at a breaths notice. Too many questions flooded your mind, and it made the room spin.

You poor thing, he thought.

“Easy now.” Quietly he said, letting the words steady you.

Rubbing at your temples, you sighed. Taking a few breaths because this was all too much. You glanced towards the stairs. The need for air was imperative. The room felt suffocating.

He had to be quick to keep you here, to get your help. Desperation filled his eyes; this could be the only opportunity he really had at a chance to escape. There was a frantic look in your eyes as they flicked up to the stairs again.

“I get it. S’all scary. Strange man in yer home, all bound up. Ain’t right. But you gotta help me…”

“I… I.. can’t…” Your voice quivered.

“Sure, you can. Simple. Jus’ come on over an get me out these things. They’re mighty uncomfortable ma’am.”

It sounded innocent enough and you did feel slightly sorry for him. But if Marcus came back and the guy was gone, you’d be in a world of hurt.

He smelled the change. The new wave of dread, one that he didn’t cause. He gave you a pleading look, and you returned an apologetic one, before bolting from the basement. Hearing the door thud shut and click behind you his shoulders sagged.

“Shit.” He growled.

For days you couldn’t stop your thoughts—the few you managed to have—from drifting to the strange man. You played things off around your boyfriend. Mainly when he asked what the matter was. You spun some tale. Gossip that was occurring at work. He ended up laughing about it.

Petty drama, he called it. Told you that you shouldn’t worry about something so stupid.

You agreed with him and he left you alone.

Every time your boyfriend was away—either work or friends—you found yourself in front of the basement door. You would test the handle to see if it was left open. The more you thought, the more sympathy and curiosity entered your mind. His image is engrained behind your eyelids. You began to feel sorry for him, and you didn’t even know him. Though, you still had no clue why he was down there and bound like he was. It wasn’t like you could get an answer, seeing how you weren’t even supposed to know about his existence.

You didn’t have to wait too long to figure things out. A few weeks later Marcus mumbled something about a guy’s weekend. Before he left, he was excited and somewhat distracted. Kissing you with a passion that you would remember he was gone.

Marcus was gone, and you started wandering through the house. You walked down the hallway, hands gliding over the walls. Boredom and a quiet house. As you passed by the basement door, hands sliding over the wood, there was a soft click, and the door moved an inch. You stopped. That was twice now your boyfriend seemingly forgot to secure the door. This time you weren’t as apprehensive.

Though your anxiety was up, as you bit your lip, you pushed the door open. Hand on the handle, breaking the invisible seal, you stood in the doorway. Darkness waited below. Swallowing your nerves, feet finding the steps, guiding you towards the bottom. The familiar clank of metal greeted you as you switched the lights on.

Somehow looking worse than last time. Paler, gaunt, dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he was starving. You faced him biting your lips harder. Making sure not to get too close, just in case.

A long silence stretched between the two of you. Neither of you spoke, even when words were on the tip of the tongue. The man’s gaze was softer this time—like he knew you would come here.

Finally breaking the tension, he spoke first. “Was startin’ to think ya forgot ‘bout me.” He teased.

Quickly you shook your head no. How could you forget?

“Was ‘fraid I scared ya to bad that you ran away for good.”

You open your mouth then close it again. You were at a loss for words. There was a question you wanted to ask but didn’t want to seem rude.

As if he could read your mind, sensing the multitude of questions brewing. “How ‘bout we start small?” He says gently, softening his low dry voice. To the best of his ability, with a form of civility that killed him inside, as he fought his gnawing hunger. “Let’s start with names, yeah. Mines Remmick.” Hands, restrained, go up over his chest—a sign of formality.

The gesture and calmness he conjured put you at ease. At least for a moment. If he had intended to do harm surely, he would have tried the last time you were here. Politely you reciprocated and gave him your name.

Remmick returned a smile, lips curving upwards—a flash of pointed tips of his teeth barely showing—but not in a full smile. If he showed off his fangs, he was certain you’d be back at square one. And he needed a level of trust if this was going to go in his favor.

“There now. All acquainted.” His hands go down as he attempts to stand up straighter. “Now, I’m sure that pretty little head o’ yers has ‘bout a hundred questions.”

You nodded.

“S’alright. You can go ahead an ask ‘em. I aint’ goin’ nowhere.” As he said it, he gave a smirk, pouring on the charm.

You responded with a soft giggle for his efforts. Your heart rate had decreased, so he knew what he was doing was working. And now that he got to see you better you looked a lot tastier—not just where your blood was concerned.

“Are you some… some kind of animal?” You asked. Stupid question, but you weren’t entirely sure how to ask it.

Remmick cocked his head blinking blankly. He wanted to laugh but had to remind himself to play nice. “Pardon?”

“Are you like…” You grunted. “I don’t know. With all the chains and cuff things. The muzzle…” You trailed off.

“Well. I’m an animal in any sense a man can be.” He utters. And somehow that made sense. “Men are inherently animalistic by nature, sweetheart.”

Brow’s scrunching in confusion. He answered but didn’t answer all in the same breath. It was too complicated to fully argue or think too hard about it. So, you moved on. “Why are you down here?”

Remmick thought it was obvious. A captive. However, he wasn’t sure that was the answer you were looking for. Rattling the chains for dramatic effect, “why don’ ya ask that man o’ yers. He’s the one keepin’ me here.”

The way your face dropped confirmed that you had no idea that your boyfriend was the one who did this.

“Ah. I see. Bless yer heart. He didn’ tell ya. Judgin’ by that look on yer face, you ain’t supposed to. Don’ worry I’m good at keepin’ secrets.” He winked.

“What did you do? I mean you must have done something wrong, right? If he’s keeping you like this.” You muster.

“Wrong?” Remmick huffed a laugh. “Only thin’ wrong I done is exist.”

Your face contorted again, twisting in confusion. None of this made sense. He certainly wasn’t telling you anything to clarify nor to help. And yet pity, oddly, remained. “How did you get all that blood on you? All those injuries?”

“That man o’ yers… Usin’ me like a right punchin’ bag. Likes to take it out on me.”

Jaw dropped in disbelief. He had to be lying. Covered in new and old injuries and he absolutely couldn’t do that to himself. You shook your head. Again, the overwhelming panic set in. It was too much for a person to handle. Your hand slid through your hair gripping your head. It was pounding.

“Jus’ take a breath.” You faintly heard him say. Voice smooth as silk.

You found yourself doing exactly that. Inhale. Exhale. Instantly calming. Before you thought, words left your tongue, when they should have stayed in your mind first.

“I want to help you.”

The chains softly rattled as he perked up. He didn’t even have to ask.

“I, uh, can’t unlock all of that…”

Remmick’s shoulders sunk. Baby steps. He told himself.

“But I can make it… I guess more comfortable. Sneak you some stuff. I don’t know. I just want to help.”

Nodding, he takes it. A hand offered. Maybe he could get blood. No. That would be too much too soon for you. Perhaps you could help clean him up. But maybe you were still too scared to approach. Treating this with delicacy. Everything had to be thought through.

You were a kind soul. Too kind. It stirred something in him. Past the hunger, the burning rage for the man that kept him here—the person whose scent stuck so strongly to you. The fear of being caught hung heavy on those beautiful shoulders. A weight you shouldn’t bear. Oh, how he could treat you so much better. Before he knew better his thoughts ran wild. Drool formed and began to drip in strings off his chin.

“Um..” You pointed. “You’re drooling.” The sight should disgust you, but the urgency and intense stare he had made your cheeks flush.

Remmick shook his head, flecks of saliva fling through the muzzle. “Sorry ‘bout that. Jus’ can’ help it when something so delicious lookin’ is standin’ in front o’ me.”

Your face went bright red. Abruptly you turned your head away.

When you shied away a crooked grin grew on his face. You were so easy. There was no lie. He did find you delicious. Tasty warm blood humming under that soft flesh. That tender skin. How he’d love to run his tongue across it. The chains clanked loudly, pulling tight when he took a few shuffles forward.

The sudden noise made you look back. He was closer, still not within reach of course.

“Let me see about some clothes or something. A towel so you can clean off with.” You mumbled heading towards the stairway.

“Ye’ll be back wontcha darlin’?” Remmick called up to you. An almost pathetic plea to his voice.

You mustered a kind smile and nodded.

In secret, from then on, you made little trips to the basement to visit Remmick.

You still weren’t bold enough to fully approach him. You did try, but there was dark energy surrounding him the closer you got. Hair rose on your arms from static electricity in the air. You kept to your word, bringing him some towels to clean with. Even a newer blanket. Since he mentioned that he hadn’t eaten in days you snuck him some food.

Venturing closer, so nervously, he never made a movement. Not even a twitch. Keeping still—the way a dog would. Obedient, sitting on the floor looking up at you through heavy lashes. Those soft blue eyes ever pleading, now filled with a new longing for you.

Carefully you fed him. Taking small pieces of food and pushing them through the narrow bars of the muzzle. He chewed slowly. As if he was forcing it down. In truth, the reality of what he truly was, his body rejected normal food. What he really wanted lay buried under your skin and in your veins. Playing the long game, he allowed himself the company. It sufficed for now.

One day, you sat across from him, talking. Conversations were usually short. Quick as you kept track of the time. Yet, on this occasion you were too absorbed in small talk you lost track of it. Remmick was sweet, polite, and charming when you talked. A huge difference to the conversations you and Marcus had.

Your boyfriend was more cross, demanding, and liked to talk about himself a lot. It made you feel small. But you fell into that ‘be a good girlfriend’ and listened. He did make up for it when he did show you attention. Usually ending with you in bed being fucked until you were limp. Which scrambled your already dumbed down brain. Satiating that primal urge.

But with Remmick you felt something. Lust. Love. It was hard to put a name to it. He gave you his attention, listening to you when you spoke. And when you start to open up you become a waterfall of words. Of course he would chime in. It wasn’t like you didn’t let him speak. Often tilting his head back and forth in that cute, in a confused puppy way—at some of the things you mentioned. It never occurred to you that he didn’t understand the context or the thing you discussed.

He never asked or corrected you.

As you got lost in hearing Remmick tell one of his stories, he abruptly stopped mid-sentence. Brow’s knitting, leaning forward slightly. Listening hard. You went to speak and his fingers twitched, hushing you.

That’s when you heard it. The basement door. A click and the creak of it swinging open. Scrambling to your feet you ducked under the staircase to hide. Adrenaline up. Heart beating frantically in your chest. Being caught… you couldn’t think on it.

Cool and collected Remmick stood up. Chains jangling as he did. The loud thuds of Marcus’ boots thundered with each step. An intimidating force. Remmick’s face tightens, eyes narrowing, body stiff as Marcus appears into view.

Swallowing hard you crouched as you observed.

“Buddy came through. Finally.” Marcus said gleefully with half-irritation and half-amusement. From his back pocket he pulled a brass knuckle out. Only it wasn’t brass. Grey in color, it shined. It was brand new.

“Plannin’ to hit with that this time?” Remmick sneered, eyeing the polished metal.

“As a matter of fact. Yeah.” Your boyfriend mentions slipping the weapon onto his hand, metal smoothly going past his knuckles, sliding right into place. With a flex of his fist, he stepped forward. He was slightly taller than Remmick, he straightened his posture.

Remmick eyed him incredulously. As if some new metal toy would do anything to him.

Marcus laughed at the look. “This isn’t like the other one. Trust me. Nope. Made sure to have this specially made for you.”

A smirk rose from the corner of his lip. “S’that so.”

CRACK!

The metal crashed into Remmick’s cheekbone with a terrible crunch. Force alone made him stumble. Face turned toward the wall.

Marcus re-adjusted the weapon, now stained with flecks of blood.

Clasping your hands over your mouth you managed to stifle a gasp.

Remmick found his footing, fixing himself upright. The side of his face was decimated. Skin split from the impact, blood trickling down the pale skin. A subtle hiss of small puff of smoke rising from the new wound.

Your eyes went wide in horror. There was no justification for something like this. Bad enough to keep a prisoner. But Remmick hadn’t even done a thing to deserve… Your thoughts were cut off.

Another CRACK! Marcus’ fist collided again. This time Remmick crumpled to the floor. Smashing onto his side. Chains pulled and clanked following him down. He groaned. Clear signs of pain as he forced himself up again. More damage was done to his face.

“Ah yeah! Not so smug now, huh? It’s silver motherfucker! Told you I was going to make you pay properly when I had the chance. Try healing from that.”

Remmick pulled himself into a seated position. Blood pouring from the wound on his face. Skin partly burnt, fresh smoke rising from it, a few layers of the epidermis gone. It was disgusting.

You whine at the sight, not used to this level of violence. Not even from movies. Eyes welling with tears. The pain he must be in. You thought.

As he sat up Remmick’s good eye accidentally darted towards your direction. The other was beginning to swell shut. Even though the glance was quick it was enough. Marcus narrowed his eyes, head on a swivel as he looked where Remmick did.

“The hell you looking at?” A pause, as he squinted.

You shift nervously.

“No damn way.” He growled. Stomping over he saw you clear as day. He pulled you hard by the shoulder from your hiding spot and you squeaked. “The fuck… What are… Dumb bitch I told you not to ever mess with the basement.” His voice was raised, a vein throbbed in his temple. Marcus was beyond pissed. The hand on your arm squeezed tight as he drug you over.

“LOOK!” He shouted.

You tried to refuse.

“No, no, you look! You’re so damn curious. You wanted to know right? Now you get to.” He forced you to open your eyes, gripping your face, making you take a good hard look.

Some of Remmick’s wounds had already started to heal. That was impossible.

Your eyes went wide as his jaw and cheek slowly sealed itself.

“Now I know it’s been you down here. Kinda threw me off for a while. Baby, you disappoint me. But hey, cats out of the bag. Makes things easier. Come on!” Marcus pulled you forward, capturing your shoulder in a powerful grip.

Again, you tried to refuse. He pushed you closer.

Remmick meanwhile pushed himself up. Standing hunched over, swollen eyelid slowly changing colors as it healed.

“Bet he lied to you, huh. He’s good at that.” He continued.

Your heels dug into the floor. It did nothing to slow you down. Now you were almost within arms reach of Remmick.

“Bet you think he’s just some dude…” Marcus saw you open your mouth and he became irate. “OH come on! I know you don’t have many brain cells firing up there, but for fucks sake. This sucker isn’t human.”

You bit your lip. Sure, you suspected, but there was never any true proof that you say personally. And Remmick never acted any differently. Just like the average man with some mystery attached. Suddenly, one of your hands was wrenched upwards, palm side up. “What?” you questioned and Marcus cut you off.

“I’m going to show you. Sometimes that pretty face of yours needs a visual.” Brandishing a pocketknife, blade snapping into place—sharp edge, glinting in the dull light. The thin edge pressed into your palm. Instantly a red line of blood appeared. You winced slightly. “Watch!” He demanded thrusting your hand out and turning your head to look.

Remmick was so still. Frozen in place. The intensity of his gaze immediately locked onto your palm. Mouth partially parted, drool gathered. You were held in suspended animation. Those blue eyes you had grown used to now bled into a crimson fire. His upper lip twitched, the scent of fresh blood—an unforeseen fog raising into the air—a calling card for his kind. A trail which only he could see. A long time without any blood at all turned him feral. No matter how hard he tried to maintain his composure.

Presenting as a man when in actuality he was a beast. A wolf wearing the wool of a sheep. The reflective red glow of his eyes turned your blood ice cold.

Fear.

That same fear you felt the first time you met returned. Intuition was correct weeks ago.

Unexpectedly he lurched forward. The chain tightened, jerked taut, metal digging into his flesh. That didn’t seem to matter.

You fought to move back, but Marcus held you firm. Then he turned your hand sideways. Blood trickled in an uneven line down the palm. Drops reached the end and dripped off, falling into small red pins to the concrete floor.

Remmick tracked it all. Salivating profusely, eyes glued to the life-giving substance. Fangs aching in his mouth.

“See! He’s been fooling you. Fucking bloodsucker. That’s how he ended up here. Tried to weasel his way in. And then he tried to bite me when I oh so kindly offered him a night on my couch. Overpowered his weak ass and stuck him down here.” The explanation seemed far-fetched, yet true. “Vampire bastard.” Marcus spat out letting go of your hand.

Again, Remmick tracked your hand as it fell to your side. More droplets of blood falling off. Behind the bars of the muzzle drool leaked unashamedly.

“Don’t worry baby. I’ll keep you protected.” Out of nowhere your boyfriend’s tone shifted. A more loving approach.

Was it real? Or a cruel trick?

His hands slid around the front of you, hugging your midsection. Face pressed into the back of your neck. He planted a gentle kiss. Tension eased and you relaxed. What you couldn’t see was the way Marcus was looking over your shoulder, sneering towards the vampire.

Remmick growled.

His hand slid across your frame, over your stomach, then up. Deliberately groping you.

You mouthed a complaint, with a seductive squeeze of your breast, you fell silent. Silence filled the basement. A game of domination and torture underway, with you at the center point. Weak to the attention your body caved. Leaning back while you were being fondled.

Remmick growled again. Instinct driven. Unable to look away.

“Want more than just blood huh? Freak.” Marcus chided. “That's why you tried seducing MY girlfriend!” He emphasized, like you were a possession.

Remmick strained hard against the chains. Metal creaking at their anchor points.

“Yeah, bet you want a taste.” Marcus teased, hand dipping lower, brushing your clothed pelvis.

You squealed, face flushing from embarrassment. Your boyfriend’s hand hovered just over your warm clothed pussy. Two fingers slowly dragging back to front in a long, drawn-out motion. You shivered, face beat red now.

“Babeeeee!” You squealed loudly.

“Quiet!!” Marcus snapped. This wasn’t about you. Well, it was, but it wasn’t about your pleasure. This was about control. To show this ‘other man’ something he couldn’t have. To take yet another thing away. As if dignity and starvation weren’t bad enough. Your boyfriend knew that there was desire behind Remmick’s eyes. Lost in that primal hunger for blood. He had seen it before. Knew that your smell was all over him when he came down here.

Multiple times he pummeled Remmick for even mentioning you. It gave him immense satisfaction in beating the condescending look of his face. Weirdly therapeutic. It also served as a lesion in thinking that the vampire would learn. Don’t underestimate prey.

Another swipe of Marcus’ fingers and your pussy grew wet. Underwear dampening with a small damp spot. “Mmmm…. Baby.” Marcus cooed in your ear. Seductively to rile you up.

You moaned softly. Hand squeezing your soft breast through your shirt, the other palming firmly through the layer of clothes. You should be ashamed. Another man watching you get turned on. Watching an intimate act. It felt like a porno. Hot kisses peppered your neck, hands touching. Mind melting into liquid. Which happened a lot. No room for thoughts when your pussy was soaked.

Soon your boyfriend’s hand breached past the waistband of your pants, past the underwear line. Swiping through your slick folds collecting the sticky mess, then pulled his hand out. Fingers shiny, coated with your fresh juices. Marcus brandished his fingers like a trophy. So, he could watch Remmick’s nostrils flare, smelling that sweet scent like a dog.

Once more, Remmick tugged against the restraints, muscles rippling under the skin from the pressure. If not for the chains, he would have crossed the few feet and been on you.

Marcus smirked harshly hand diving back into the warmth, to toy with your clit. Eyes glued to the vampire. The more he fingered you the more noticeable Remmick’s desperation became. And the added tightness formed in his pants. Your boyfriend and Remmick had a short staring contest.

Remmick’s red eyes blazing with feral need and raging anger.

Marcus’ eyes were laced with pride and ego. He loved control. Power over another. Backed by strength and cruelty he always got what he wanted. You were easier to control. A little attention and you swooned. A little touch—like he was doing now—and you melted. A little threat of violence or show of aggression puts you in your place.

Your hips rolled as his fingers snagged your entrance. A groan escaped your lips. Your knees almost buckling.

Remmick choked on the collar as he snarled in frustration. The scent of your arousal acted like a pheromone. The blood from the cut on your hand, still dripped little droplets onto the floor.

That’s what caught his attention more than the act of your boyfriend playing with you. Another growl, this time louder, more feral, deeply emanated from his chest. Mixed signals flooded his senses. Blood was a siren's call to his hunger. Your arousal fed the other type of hunger that stirred.

Marcus saw the break. Man lost to beast. Drool cascading in droves from Remmick’s mouth, body absentmindedly pulling against the chains. Unrelenting, even as the metal creaked. A darkness grew in your boyfriend’s eyes. Every tiny movement he made; fingers dipping into your welcoming folds, curling just right to make you moan. Hips rolling while his fingers expertly fucked you.

You came without warning. One curve was too many and the flood gates opened. Pants drenched, walls clenching down, as you squirt uncontrollably.

“Fucking nasty.” You heard Marcus mumble behind you, fingers retracting. You whined at the loss. The chuckle from him was humorless. He was on a power trip. Riding the high of all of this. Power over the two of you.

Suddenly he smacked you hard across the ass, so hard it would surely leave a red mark. You whimpered when he did it again. Then again. Each time harder. It brought tears to your eyes.

Moving you to your side, Marcus grabbed you hard by the hip, smooshing you against him while he pointed.

“Told you he wasn’t human.” He grumbled angrily. “Over here being nice to a creature that rather eat you. Dumb bitch. Should have just listened when I told you to stay away. Oh, well. Can’t go back now. You’re involved.” He grabbed your face hard, forcing you to look. “He’s like a stray dog. Rabid. Should put him down. But… it’s more fun to have a punching bag that can’t die.” Your boyfriend laughed and shoved you towards the stairs. “Get upstairs. I’ll finish and be with you in a minute.” He commanded.

No leeway. No debate. No protest.

Wiping away the tears you did as you were told quietly. Taking a quick glance, which only gives you a glare, sends chills up your spine.

Door clicking, Marcus turned his attention to his target.

Remmick was focused on the small blood stains drying on the floor.

Your boyfriend took out the silver brass knuckles and went to town. Beating the vampire until he was a bloody heap and half-conscious on the floor. Out of breath, Marcus eyes the smoking mess of a man at his feet. “That will teach you.” Satisfaction and a dark grin. “Now have to go teach her.” He mumbled and left the basement.

The next few weeks were hell. Ignorance truly was bliss. And you missed the person you were in not knowing. Too late for that now.

Marcus let the mask slip. Turning into a vicious asshole. Upping his threats and aggression. He was still angry at you for not listening. Now he forced you with ‘taking care’ of his prisoner.

Remmick.

Your heart ached.

Constantly beaten, bloody, and abused. Kicked like a wounded dog. Curled up in the corner. Quiet. Afraid to even make eye contact for long. It didn’t go beyond his notice that, just like him, you shared your own set of bruises. A black eye here, a cut there, a bruise in a place he couldn’t see but present in the way you walked.

You didn’t want to make waves, so you did what you were told. Still, you were punished.

Remmick’s blood boiled. You shouldn’t have to endure that. Things were looking hopeless on his end. No amount of gnashing or bearing of fangs did any good. With him stuck, he was powerless. And you certainly couldn’t help. Not under constant scrutiny of that boyfriend of yours. That was no man. That was a monster in human form. Just like him. Yet somehow worse. You deserved so much better. The tears in your eyes that should never be there.

You couldn’t escape either. Marcus held you at ransom. The information about what he had in the basement kept you here. That and the threat of violence. Whatever spark or shine you had faded. As you bring supplies and other things to the basement—under the watchful eyes of your boyfriend—never leave you room for conversation past a greeting. The fleeting eye contact with Remmick always has you in tears.

He was always in a state. Degrading insults hurled at him. Just like the fist your boyfriend freely threw.

Every time a pleading look filled Remmick’s eyes, you teared up.

You were both caught in a cycle of abuse. In the times you both found sleep you thought of change. Wishful thinking for a better future. You even thought of Remmick in your sleep now. How you would rather risk his fangs than the cruelty of your boyfriend. To be in the embrace of a supernatural creature then of the man currently laying next to you in bed. You spent many days crying. Though it wasn’t all bad. There were moments when Marcus treated you like he used to. Love bombing you. It confuses your body and mind.

One more trip down to the basement, carrying clothes, towels, and a few other things. Marcus sent you ahead to get started. You crouched in front of the mattress setting your supplies next to you. Chains lightly clank as Remmick shifts. He sits up as you begin to clean his wounds and blood in silence. His gaze shifted past you to the stairway.

“He’ll be along shortly.” You whispered. Voice soft, weak. When you sniffled, in a soft show of affection Remmick placed his forehead against yours.

“Don’ cry sweetheart.” Hoarsely whispering back. His voice was dry and gravely. “Some day ya won’ have to worry ‘bout a man like that. I’ll take care o’ ya. Treat you right.”

He had said this on a few visits lately. It gave you a little bit of fleeting hope. Words to help you feel better. Remmick would repeat the words like a mantra. Hoping you will believe them. Within this tender moment you shared a breath. It was enough to keep him going. Even though he grew weaker he was determined to survive. At least long enough to sink his fangs into that monster.

You did your duty as Marcus joined to keep watch.

Smug asshole. Remmick thought with a glower. I’ll see to it you can’ hurt her again.

With another couple weeks gone. Marcus left you. Believing you trained enough so that he could leave for a trip that he had planned. Fear of consequences should keep you complacent.

A day before he left and he was balls deep in your pussy. Rocking the bedframe with his thrusts. He told you where he was going and for how long. None of which you heard passed the moans and tears. He promised that if you behaved and did what you were told, when he came back, he would reward you. Punctuating his words with several thrust. Your body accepted. Your head swam. He was almost like his old self.

The next morning, as he packed all his stuff, he gave you a list to follow. Instructions on how to take care of ‘it’. And of course, the reminder what would happen if you deviated. Fear gripped you just enough. Disgusting pride, a swell of ego. Toxic masculinity trait of men just like him.

And then he was gone. The car packed and drove away. You don’t know why you waved goodbye, but you did. What should have been a relief to be alone was met with anxiety. As if Marcus was still somehow present. Most of the day you spent curled up in a ball, drifting in and out of sleep. Tears shed until you passed out exhausted.

You woke up to darkness, having fallen asleep without turning on a single light. The bed creaked as you sat up. The house was silent. Deep within you something stirred. You craved comfort. Subconscious need for closeness. One that wasn’t met with violence. You were moving before you knew it. Feet shuffling across the carpet, taking you down the hall, and to the basement. Using the light from the hall you carefully went down the stairs.

Normally you are used to hearing the subtle movement and rattle of chains. But there was no noise. As you crept closer—bare feet softly pattering against the concrete.

On the worn-out mattress, Remmick lay partly curled up. Eyes shut. Crouching down you got to your knees and sat on them. You had to stop yourself. The rare thought—when you had them—crossed your mind, Eyes adjusting to the dark, you saw the outline of the ‘dangerous creature’ before you. Your boyfriend’s phantom voice yelling at you in your head. You began to cry again.

What were you doing? You questioned yourself. He’s not here to catch you. Why am I so afraid? He may not be human, but at least he’s never hurt you. I could really use the company right now.

You weren’t sure where your thoughts were going. They were all over the place. Hard to keep track of through the well of sadness and loneliness. Before another thought could fully process you crawled onto the mattress. Placing yourself close to him. It shocked you just how cold he was. You slot your form with his, fitting like a puzzle piece with your head resting against his chest.

More tears fell as you cried in silence. You went still when you felt him move.

Remmick’s upper half lifts. The extra weight on the mattress, the sudden warmth, the smell of sweet and sadness had stirred him. You curled up tighter, slightly trembling, shaking from a mix of fear and emotion. Soft blue eyes gazed at you. A few clinks from the chain and you pulled back. Looking at each other, he saw the wet shine in your eyes from crying. His cool hands came up and wiped the remaining tears away.

“S’all right, darlin’.” He said lowly,  in a gentle tone that he could muster. In tune with your pain, he understood. “I know it’s overwhelmin’.” He told you. You felt him awkwardly nuzzle your head. The muzzle got in the way of proper contact.

Sadly, you stared into those blue eyes—tenderness resided there. Despite the aching hunger in his guts. Despite the anger that lay in wait in his bones. Despite the overall exhaustion of his body, he pushed it all aside for you. It didn’t take long for him to deduce that, that terrible man of yours was gone. Otherwise, you wouldn’t risk being down here. To be this vulnerable. To be this close to a beast without his watchful glare. Lost in thought a purr slipped out of him. Your warm soft hands petting his shoulder and arm.

It brought you some comfort, so you kept doing it. Moving from his arm to his chest, you wanted something more. More than the violence. More than the constant walking on eggshells. Physical contact. Connection to someone who, though terrifying, felt safer.

You knew he wanted it too. Even when your boyfriend watched you. The silent eye contact, the whispering conversations. You had formed a connection. Believed Remmick’s words. Not caring if they were true or not. What could be worse? Your hand slid across his cold collarbone.

With bound hands he pet your face.

You leaned into it. You couldn’t be bothered to care what happened to you. You would take your chances. You wanted to feel again.

How he wished he could touch you properly. But it was impossible like this. And he wasn’t about to ruin the moment asking for removal of his cuffs. This was a once in a lifetime moment and he was being cautious.

Running your fingers on his skin, with a quivering breath. “Did you mean it?” You asked timidly.

Mean what? He thought.

“That you would take care of me.” It came out of nowhere. Slipping past your tired lips. You could feel the strength still residing in Remmick’s chest.

All the times he mentioned it you might as well take the leap. What was there to lose that you hadn’t already. Except maybe your life. Which you weren’t sure was even yours anymore. Either you died by Marcus’ hand or a monsters. But when the monster is the one to tell you it will take care of you… it didn’t sound bad.

“Course I meant it.” Remmick confessed. “Ya deserve so much better. Ne’er lay a hand on you like he does. Keep ya close. Show you proper love. Won’ let ya get hurt the way you're hurtin’ now.” He said soothingly, fingers tracing down your arm. Conviction in his tone. A hint of possessive anger. It added to your belief that it was the truth he spoke.

A few more tears fell. The cold sting of metal pressed against your neck as Remmick attempted to bury his face into your neck. You tilt your head as he nuzzles there. Whining in frustration at the lack of contact that he desperately wanted. His cuffed hands did their best to cup the side of your face.

The muzzle pressed in again and you rolled your head titling further back to accommodate. He took a deep long inhale. Breathing in your delicious scent. He had grown accustomed to it. That smell, his body taught him to associate it with good things. And you were that good thing. Taking care of him, showing him kindness. Even when you were a prisoner yourself.

“I can make things right.” Remmick purred, eyes closed taking another inhale. His hands found your hip tracing the curve. “Fix all o’ it.” He mumbled. Lost in your intoxicating smell.

That hunger flared in more ways than one. He wanted to claim you. Make you his. Mark you and keep you close. His fangs extended in his mouth. When his eyes snapped open, they had that red glow.

You gasped when he pulled back, the rapid change, and how close you were. Small drops of drool fell against the muzzle bars, with some making it through and landing on your skin.

His body shifts over you. Well, the best he could manage with how hard it was to move with how he was locked up. So, he sat on his knees beside you. All you did was stare at him with parted lips. The intensity of his gaze ghosts over your body. As if gaze alone could burn through your clothes to the wonderful flesh underneath.

His eyes flicked slowly down your body. Your cheeks turned pink. Marcus never looked at you this way. Or at the least not in a long while. It lit your skin on fire, burning you up with passion. Your thighs shift, rubbing together. Then his eyes flick again, nostrils flaring—like a blood hound smelling the wet arousal.

Cheeks turned red. You were embarrassed by being aroused by just a look. So you turned your face away.

Remmick shifts again, chains pulling along with him, some links lay heavy on your stomach and over your pelvis. As he drags them, to move them out of the way, they glide across your clothed folds. It makes you mewl. The chains were heavier than you thought He drags them again and you respond the same. His eyes light up in fascination. The dirty pants he wears grow tight and he bites his lip hiding a groan.

Looks like I ain’t the only one starvin’. Remmick thinks. His hands reach forward and run up and down your stomach.

“No need to hide your face.” He remarks and your head turns back. “Ya don’ need to be ashamed.” He slightly teases, tugging the chain, it makes you squirm. “Told ya I’d take care o’ you. An that means all o’ you.”

You squeezed your thighs as they clasped around the links. A reactive response.

Oh my god! Your mind screams. Why is this… why is this turning me on?

With your thighs clamped, Remmick pulls the chain—from the pressure you create—drags it over your clothed folds making you moan. Soft and quiet. Just faint enough for him to hear.

You abruptly hear the rushing clatter of chains as he pulls them, making them tug in a tight line. Raising up to take a peek and he gently pushes you down to lay flat, his face by your ear.

“Jus’ lay there. Trust me.” There’s a new tone to his voice. Rough, gravely, as he gets ready.

The weight of the metal lays still as he shifts. Anticipation builds as does your curiosity. Then it happens. With the chains taut he drags them upwards. Hard, as they slide. His face was still near yours as he watched your reaction.

The little twitches your face makes as the hard metal graces your aroused clit. Bumping it when your tights press together. Remmick’s body shivers, fangs digging into his lips again to stop himself.

This was turning him on just as much as you. You were making his body feel things it hadn’t in so long. It kills him how he can’t just take you properly. To feel you. So, he carefully runs the chain back and forth, drawing little puffy moans from you.

“Ya think that feels good?” Remmick questions.

You nod.

“I can make it feel so much better.” His voice drops low to an almost whisper. “Can make ya scream into the night. Bring ya pleasure that MAN ne’er could.” A chain link bumps your clit, and you hum, hips slightly rising to meet it.

You nod again. The sensation makes your body tingle and your head fuzzy. Then it stops. And your head snaps toward him.

He gives you a soft smile. There was definitely a want behind your eyes. Maintaining eye contact, the chain moved slowly again. Cruelly slow. Then stopped.

“I’ll give ya more, don’ worry, darlin’. Jus’ need ya to help me out a little first.” Another long pull of the chain.

You bite your lip. “Ho-how?” Asking so simply that it never crossed your mind what he’s up to.

Remmick leans in unbearably close this time. Hands teasingly pet your side. “Wanna touch you.” Hands float over your stomach, then lower, until they rest where you ache. A couple fingers teased, feeling the damp spot. He groans lowly. “Yer aching for a real man to show ya love.” He continues, deft fingers pressing and circling the raised nub.

Body, arching you whine loudly.

A growl hangs in his throat. Showing you a hint of attention and you were like this. Deprived and treated roughly, abused, turned the softest touches into want. He groans, cock straining in his pants as you whisper another moan. You were lucky he was restrained. Remmick closed his eyes, fingers pressing more firmly.

“Ahhh…” You whined, teary eyed gripping his cuffs stopping his hands.

Red eyes fly open, a dumbfounded look on his face. Why would you stop? As he went to question, you rolled on top of him.

Pressing him back first into the mattress. You straddle his lower abdomen. The way you sit pinned his cuffed hands between your thighs. His legs fall straight, chain pulling with a snap and both of you groan. Metal sharply pressing into your folds and against his pulsing erection.

His hissed through clenched fangs.

His fingers, the pressure of the metal, and the outline of his cock was all too much. Your thighs spread wider letting you sink down more. You moaned. He hissed again.

“Sw-sweetheart…” Remmick tried as you began grinding your hips. “Fu-fuck.” He growls deeply, almost inhuman. His hands jerked trying to yank them free. They didn’t go far, only managing to pull the chain again and his head was thrown back into the mattress. “Unnhgh!” His legs wriggle, your dampened pants leak onto his with how wet you had become. “Fuck! Yer soaked.”

Another attempt and his cuffed hands wrenched free, the action causing you to buck and grind down hard.

Biting on your lip you start humping him. Chains crashing as you move on them. His hips meet yours in earnest. You bounce and grind on him. The two of you are slowly coming undone.

Remmick’s body tenses, arms pulling, which only made it worse. A deadly seductive cycle. Claws extended from the tips of his fingers the closer he got.

You whimpered.

He lets out an animalistic growl. Hands flexing desperately wanting to touch you but couldn’t.

You came first. Chain pressing hard against your pants, your release flooded and soaked through the fabric.

His hips rose to yours when you started slowing down. Chest arching, head looking towards the ceiling he pathetically came. Little spurts of his seed dirtying his already stained pants.

Stilling your hips, hands pressed lightly into his stomach, you were panting softly. You couldn’t help but look down on him. Tension slowly left his muscles as he relaxed beneath you. Cuffed hands resting against his chest, even with him just cuming his cock was still hard. You gently rub at his lean stomach, some of his tattered tank had risen revealing the pale skin.

You swore he purred just like a cat. Skin still cold, while yours was burning. His claws intrigued you. Grasping the cuffs you lift his hands. His gaze locking, breath hitching.

“Careful with those darlin’.” He warned. Last thing he needed was for you to hurt yourself. Fear if you accidentally spilled your blood, he would go feral.

You nodded while inspecting them. Razor sharp tips protruding from the ends of his fingers. They looked as if they grew right out of the fingertips. You ran a thumb over the nail itself.

Remmick observed you closely. You were an odd one. Silently he snuck in a deep breath smelling hints of fear, sweat, your fresh release, and the sweat warm blood pumping fast from your excitement. Your fear was still there. Reserved. How easy his claws or fangs could tear into you. You had feared him for so long that you didn’t realize how beautiful he could be.

What you did next shocked him. You kissed his hands, claws included. He had to swallow hard. It would have been so easy for him to have killed you tonight.

Then the walls of emotions came down. Tears brimmed, then spilled. Humiliated at your life choices. The choice of man you thought was decent—who turned out to be a monster. The monster held captive, that was more man… it was too much.

You never made the right decisions. And here you were making another poor one. Tears turned into full crying. How could you be this stupid? When your boyfriend comes back, he will most surely know what you did. You were full on sobbing now, clutching his hands like a lifeline.

Remmick’s brows furrowed and he sat up. “Shhh…. Sweatheart. Whate’er it is yer thinkin’ it ain’t that bad.”

“He’ll…” You sobbed. “He’ll kill me for this.” You muttered sadly.

“Nah, he won’t.”

You hiccupped and leaned into him. His knees bent to make it more comfortable as you sat in his lap.

“Won’ let that happen.” Remmick claimed.

Sniffling, tears painting your cheeks.

“Shhhh, now. I got ya.” He whispers. The words seemed to help.

You pressed more into him. Weirdly finding comfort in this creature… no this man.

“No use spillin’ tears o’er nothin’. Ain’t trivial. Let me take it all away. Make ya forget.” Then his voice dipped low. “Let me hold ya. Let me care for ya. Won’ have to worry ‘bout a thin’.” There was a hint of seduction to his words and he rolled his hips.

Remmick was tired of waiting. Tired of aching, of hunger. Tired of playing this game.

You whined breathlessly as he continued. Making sure to use whatever he could—partly to make you feel better—but more so to get what he wanted. Freedom. Remmick gently pushed you back, cupping your chin.

“I a’ready promised, but… I can’ help if I’m like this.” A clawed thumb runs over your chin. “Ya gotta help.” It sounded so sweet and innocent. He held your gaze, pleading—puppy like—despite the blazing red irises.

“How?” You responded.

Just what he wanted to hear. The door was open, now he just needed to give you a little push.

A grin crosses his face, fangs finally on full display. The sharp shark like teeth should be terrifying. Maybe you felt they weren’t since they were locked away behind a cage. He pets your chin again as he speaks. “So called boyfriend o’ yers. Should have a key or the like round here.” He wasn’t too sure.

Once he was locked in—a condition he woke up to—he never saw a key or anything. Remmick half suspects the key was non-existent. Or worse kept on said boyfriend. Who unfortunately was not present.

“If… if I do this,” you spoke timidly. That poor brain of yours doing overtime as you thought of the repercussions. “You won’t hurt me, right?”

Remmick chuckled to himself and shook his head. “I would have done so already if I wanted.” He states coldly.

Again another truth, you concluded, from him or what appeared to be. Slowly you rose from his lap. At first, he was hesitant to let you. If you got spooked…. He didn’t want to think about it. Once you were standing and out of the way, you began to search the basement. Remmick also got to his feet. Rolling his shoulders as the weight of the chains fell.

You searched everywhere. In boxes, little nooks, anything that was available down here. But nothing was to be found.

He encouraged you to keep going. To search the rest of the house. He wasn’t about to give up so easily.

So, you retreated up the stairs continuing. You ransacked the house. Without actually tearing things up. No room was off limits. But every search yielded nothing.

The last room was the bedroom. All the empty searches made your heart sink. There would be no way to free him. In desperation you searched thoroughly. Coming to the nightstand, on Marcus’ side, you opened the drawer. Odds and ends are scattered inside. Again nothing.

On the verge of tears, you put your hand in the drawer all the way to the back. Fingers feeling blindly. They touched something cold. Metallic. Getting a decent grip you pulled a small key ring out.

Down below Remmick’s sharp ears heard your frantic movements. If there was a god or high being now would be the time for divine intervention. He heard your grunts, the stomping of feet moving from room to room. If this didn’t work, he’d be stuck here forever.

Suddenly the noises above stopped. He looked at the ceiling. Holding a breath as he listened. A few seconds later you were on the move again. Trajectory of sounds leading you back.

Out of breath you proudly held up the brass key ring. Only a couple of small keys were attached.

Salivating his freedom, he refrained from jumping you as you got closer. Fiddling with the keys you first undid the shackles around his ankles. The latch clicked open.

He watched intensely. The hunger pit inside him grows with every passing second.

You pulled the metal away frowning deeply at the red raw irritated skin.

“Don’ worry. I’ll heal.” You heard him say above you. There was a darkness to his voice that never registered. Solely focused you stood up; his wrists extended already waiting for you. Had you even taken a small glance you would have seen the ferocity in his stare. A fresh wave of drool, red eyes burning in anticipation.

Click.

The cuffs were unlocked. Time moves in slow motion for you. The cuffs fell from his raw wrists, falling to the floor. The weight of the chain pulling them down with a loud crash.

Your field of view changed in an instant. You were swept off your feet, that was clear. You landed harsher than he wanted, back first into the mattress. Arms pinned above you with your elbows bent. You squeaked in shock, gasping in surprise. Fear returned as he hovered on all fours above you. All you saw were his red eyes.

Drool dripped through the cage onto your face as he leaned closer. A predatory hum reverberated straight from his chest. Sniffing you like an animal. It was his turn to straddle your hips. Trapping you with his weight. Removing his hands slowly from your wrists you didn’t dare move as his claw, in a line, cut the fabric of your shirt. Patience thrown to the wind, he shreds your clothes. All of them. Fabric flew like confetti, raining through the air. Little cuts appeared on your skin. Hunger consumed him.

No time to think. To react. His pants were thrown off in a hurry. Large cock, leaking, veiny, and free. The vein pulsed on the side of his shaft. He was huge. Twice the size of your boyfriend.

You eyed it. Stiff and upright.

“Gonna feel so warm.” You barely heard him before he was lining up.

“Wait…” Breath catching in your throat. He was way too big.

The enlarged head rubbed against your clit.

“Ohhh~…” You groaned.

His clawed fingers inserted into your wet pussy, sharp edges nicking your walls as they slowly began fucking you.

“Jus’ relax.” Remmick purred. As much as he’d like to bury himself in you, you required further preparation. To take him and his size. The warm and slick walls convulsed around his fingers. It had him leaking. He pushed your thighs open more, rubbing one.

While he pumped his fingers he stretched you. Curling and scissoring them leaving your walls fluttering. The occasional snag of his claw started to hurt less. Then he curled them, squishing your g-pot just right. Fluids poured out of your pussy coating his hand. Grin widening he did it again.

“Think yer ready for me.” Mumbling he pulled his fingers out. Using his slicked hand, he guided his cock to your entrance. The bulbous head stretched you wide open. You whined as more of his cock pushed in. You were so tight it was hard for him to not cum right away. With a powerful thrust he breached you completely. Tip pressing against your cervix. His cock visible in your stomach. He pressed down and you moaned loudly.

Gummy walls flutter and clench around him as he settles inside. Remmick groans, leaning his body forward forcing his way deeper. Hips put pressure on your thighs opening them up as his weight keeps them spread. Rocking his hips, it felt right. The girth filled you up. Pressing down on your belly so he could feel himself there. Thrusting slowly making you feel all of him.

Slick slaps of his hips as he thrust, pumping faster now. Moans got louder, your body melting.

“You don’ know how long I been waitin’ to have ya.” Remmick whispers, leaning his body towards you. Arms on either side of your head. He watched your face. Half-lidded, eyes already glassy. His thrust takes a turn, unable to hold back. With an exhale he let loose. Claws digging into your sides, scraping down to your hips.

You cried in pain, fresh cuts lined your skin, blood pebbling as he gripped your hips hard. Slamming his cock into you, he pulled you toward him. The crash made you yelp. The rhythm was that of animal brutality. Staking his claim finally. Hips and balls clashed repeatedly.

You whimpered as tears filled your eyes. He promised not to hurt you and here he was. The pain didn’t last too long as it started to become pleasurable. That was until his claws dug in further, hooking in deep. You took it as well as you could. Feeling his heavy cock punch your womb, stretch your insides. Reshaping you to make him fit.

Remmick watched your stretched folds take all of him. A heavy growl filled the air as his shaft appeared and disappeared. Swallowed whole by your body. Lifting your hips up, changing the angle, folding you in half. Cock sinking deeper. He groaned.

You gasped; it was harder to breathe but damn did it feel good. Your boyfriend never did this. Never got this deep, or made you feel this full. You heard another growl. Remmick’s thrust impossibly fast, slamming down into you. You came, squirting like a fountain. And with the new angle it fell down your hips like a waterfall—from your stomach to your chest.

He whines; the vice grip tightness of your walls squeezed him forcing him to cum instantly. Thick ropes fill your insides. Pumping his hips he milked himself until he was empty. With a satisfied groan he lowered your hips. Semi-bloody claws swiped up some of your blood. Greedily, and with no restraint, he jammed fingers through the bars of the muzzle and licked what little blood was there. He did this several times, lost in the act, desperately licking what he could. Crying how he missed the taste.

Beneath him, in a sex haze—one you were slowly coming out of. You saw him licking his claws. It was obscene how needy he was for it. Whimpering pathetically, it weakened your heart weirdly enough.

Still buried inside, he pitifully sniffed his claws, the metallic tang causing a high. He craved more. What little he got was heavenly. Taking one last deep sniff his stare turned back to you. You had his full attention. Hungry.

“Need to taste more o’ ya.” Remmick grumbled roughly.

The sound of his voice caused you to shiver. His eyes scanned near the mattress, to your hands. Looking for the keys. When he looked at you again you were half fading, tiredly blinking. You mewled as his cool hands pet your skin.

“Darlin’,” he muttered. It sounded distant.

You hummed an acknowledgement.

“Where are the keys?” He asked as sweet as his hunger would allow. Hands glide up your thighs.

Lazily you turn your head looking around. Flexing your hand where they were last. Lifting your head you eventually spot them on the floor across the room. They must have flown when he picked you up.

He followed your gaze, holding back an angry growl. Which was to himself for being careless. Shifting he pulled out. A squelch and a pop followed.

Your legs fell open and you whined.

On his hands and knees, he crawled towards the keys. Remmick’s progress was halted when the chain connected to his collar clinked tight. He reached out with his fingers; the key ring was only inches away. If he could just…

You heard him mutter in agitation, but with your sore body and exhaustion you couldn’t even raise your head to look. All you did see was the glint of the dull metal holding him back. And of course, his pale naked form, from the waist down. You caught yourself hazily staring at his ass. His large, now flaccid cock, swinging freely.

Still trying to reach the key ring, Remmick did something unconventional. Concentrating he extended his claws well past the point you saw earlier. Extra length and new knuckles snapped into place. It was just what he needed. Curving the tip, he managed to scoop the key ring up and drag it over.  Fingers popped back into place as he crawled victoriously back over. Sitting at the edge of the mattress he tried to free himself. However, the lock was stubborn, and he couldn’t see what he was doing. At some point he sighed giving up, hands in his lap, turning the keys over between his fingers.

You had drifted back into a light sleep.

He lets you sleep. He waited this long and he could wait a little longer. A softness returned to him. You truly were a beautiful woman who deserved the world. One he was one step closer to giving you. Just not in the way you were prepared for. So, he lets you rest.

Unsure how long you slept since the basement had no windows. When you woke up you figured it was long enough for Remmick—who at some point had ripped free of his shirt—was laying naked next to you. The crude stained blanket draped over you. Unlike him  you were bound to get cold down here.

Rolling onto your side you faced him. He was resting on the floor next to you letting you have the full mattress. With a quiet groan you sat up. Your whole body ached.

The blanket slid off revealing all the scratch marks. They were healing, but they were a small dangerous reminder. You pulled the blanket the rest of the way off. You felt gross. Not from the fact that you slept with a man that wasn’t your boyfriend, but from the dry sticky feeling between your legs. Old slick mixed with his dry cum. Your eyes went wide. He came inside you. Not that was a bad thing, but how would you explain that if you got pregnant. Could you even get pregnant from a vampire? You ponder. But at the same time the thought of having a baby in general stirred something.

Your hand ran over your stomach, picturing it swollen, but also you swore you felt the phantom bulge of Remmick’s cock there. You shift uncomfortably, stilling the new pulse in your veins, turning you from these thoughts.

Your clit fluttered thinking of how he touched you. How he spread you wide. The desperate raw need behind those hungry eyes. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself. You had to admit to yourself he was far better than Marcus ever was. Minus the parts where claws cut you.

Swallowing a groan that unfortunately rose in your throat, you pressed your legs together. You could already feel a new wave of wetness. You hadn’t gotten this excited in a long time. Thanks to the constant fear.

Remmick was watching you in silence. He could smell the renewed need dripping between your thighs.

You rubbed your face, unable to sit still. A bath, you thought, distracting your thoughts before they went too far. When you looked over at him you reflectively gasped. How long had he been awake? Cheeks flushed pink immediately.

“Still shy after yesterday.” Remmick chuckled sitting up, moving closer to you onto the mattress.

“More embarrassed.” You heard yourself explain softly.

“No need to be. Ya wanted it as much as I did.” He brushes a few loose hairs away from your face. “An I can smell ya want more.” He teased.

“I shouldn’t.”

“If you’re worried ‘bout that bastard, don’. Who cares what he thinks. Ya have wants an needs. Desires.” Remmick’s voice dropped low, fingers tracing your arm. “An sweetheart, he wasn’ providin’ ya with any o’ that. That’s why ya have me now.”

Your legs squeezed together again.

“So put all that behind ya, yeah.” He purred hand resting on your thigh, slowly inching it towards your wet core.

Your eyes shift from his hand to his face.

He twirled strands of bushy hairs, then slid a few fingers down over your clit, circling the bundle of nerves.  

A high-pitched moan fell from your lips.

“Jus focus on the pleasure. On the sweet sensation creepin’ up your spine. I know ya want me buried inside ya again. Saw it on your face.”

You moaned again when his fingers traveled further then gradually slipped them inside.

“Want to carry my seed? Drenched and full.” His fingers pump slowly, seeming to grow longer as he did. His other hand came up your spine to the back of your neck, holding it stable when your head tipped back.

“Yeah, jus’ like that.”

Your breath grows heavy; his fingers elongated inside you. Tips of his inhuman claws were able to touch every perfect spot. And when they curled you cried out.

“All soaked. Drippin’ with want.” Remmick purred. Fingers thrusting, using your slick to ease them in and out. Making you squirm and leak more. The pad of his thumb found your clit and your whole body arched.

You yelled out so beautifully. Limbs soon felt like jelly. The more he pumped the more you fell. Arching again you could feel the tightening muscles in your gut. Breath coming out in short pants. He held you through it. That sweet orgasm hit and your vision burst full of stars, eyes rolling into your head. Little whimpers whisper off your tongue. You cum around his unnaturally long fingers, drenching the stained mattress and he pushes you through it. Body jerking and spasming. With a shaky hand you gently grab his wrist. The tips of his newly formed claws scratched at your womb, and you cried in pleasure.

Too deep. Your mind swirled. Too wrong, but right.

Your grip tightened on his wrist and he eventually stopped.

Claws retracted. Remmick shifts into a seated position. You pant lightly, those red eyes of his glowing brightly, hunger and some tenderness luring within them. His cock, as you take notice, was already rigid and throbbing. Veins pulsing. He uses your cum, still on his fingers to lube his cock. His free hand, with those elongated claws—that frighten you—beckon you to him.

“C’me here, darlin’.” Voice low, a lazy fanged smile flashes beneath the metal muzzle.

And you do. You climb into his lap, a willing action. Pussy vibrating with excitement as you straddle him. His cool thighs brush your burning skin as you hover over his erect shaft. Long claws envelope your hips as he guides you. As you lower, the broad head presses through your wet folds, parting them. It’s easier this time, but it’s still a tight fit.

As his cock stretches, he groans. The sound vibrating from his chest. You sink all the way until your ass rests flush in his lap.

“Mmm, feels so good. So warm.” Remmick bucks his hips in shallow thrust that have you whimpering. His long claws—that wrap around your supple flesh—dig in keeping you steady when he moves. Slow and deep. “Takin’ me so well.” He mutters. A compliment since this was your second time taking his large cock.

You join in, bouncing in his lap, as his shaft stretches and slides in and out. There’s already a wet slap of skin-on-skin sound echoing off the walls. As you bounce, Remmick leans forward, the cage pressing against your collarbone.

With a deep inhale and powerful thrust, he coos picking up the key ring into your field of vision. “Need ya to do me one last favor darlin’.” He makes sure you're focused enough between thrust. “Unlock this muzzle, yeah. Free me. So I can taste ya proper, while I fuck ya senseless.” His voice darkens, dipping low. “Imagine. My tongue in places, lapping ya up like a god send. Bitin’ on that soft skin, kissin’ ya while I’m buried inside like this.”

For a fraction you swear his cock swells thicker when he thrusts hard. The head nudging your womb. White blurs the edge of your vision. His claws on your hip slide up your side as the key dangles before your face.

“Please,” his plea is soft, and he slows his hips leaving you wanting. “Go on.” He can see the small hesitation, so he gave a few hard fast thrusts. Your ass slams down onto his hips. “Let me fulfill my promise. I want to kiss ya, bite ya. Gently o’ course.” He laughs. “Let me have all of you without this god forsaken cage.”

Your hand shakily reached out, and he dropped the key ring into your awaiting hand.

Excitement fills him, both clawed hands find your hips again. His thrust becomes more urgent.

“That’s right,” he leans his head forward.

Reaching around, he slows down making the task at hand easier. You fumble with the lock. His cock pulses along your walls as he maintains a slow rhythm letting you focus despite the ache in your core.

Gripping the key with trembling hands, you continue to fumble with the lock. It eventually gives way. Clicking open as you remove it. The pressure from the muzzle lightened as you worked it free.

Claws tighten, digging into your hips, he held his breath. Breathing shallow in anticipation. The cellar slides off his pale neck, leaving behind a red ring on the skin. Then came the muzzle. You gently pulled it away from his face revealing the full-face underneath.

It was handsome, light stubble, mouth parted with soft lips—full of fangs that you saw more clearly now.

The metal cage clacks to the floor.

He soaks in your face properly, a low growl rumbling in his throat. All control that was left shattered. With a sharp exhale his whole body surged. Bouncing you hard and fast in his lap. Brutal thrusts. Slamming his massive cock deep into your pussy. The force jolts you upwards and gravity brings you back down.

Your walls clamp around his shaft.

Freed now he takes a true inhale of the air. Your scent, your arousal, your sweat mingling together, floods his nostrils. Hitting him like a drug. Stronger than anything he smelled prior. Remmick salivates, drool gathering in pools at his lips before falling down his chin. A flash of fangs and raw hunger in his eyes makes you quiver.

Lunging forward, tongue flicking out, it connects with your chest. Tracing along your collar bone, then down the swell of your breasts. Tongue finds your perked nipples lapping in circles around the nub before suckling on it. Fangs nick the plump flesh as he greedily bites, making you bleed.

You arch with a loud cry.

Licking away the blood his tongue trails upwards. Sketching the vein in your neck. Claws dig and pierce the skin, anchoring you in place. His face dives into your neck. He groans deeply. Cock twitching wildly inside you.

Your pulse jumps and he feels it vibrate against his skin. Overwhelming. Remmick’s hips stutter, he’s already on the edge. Face pressed deep into your neck he fights off cumming too soon.

Fangs tickle the skin at your throat; you can feel the slimy wet drool on your skin. The tips lightly pierce the tender flesh, sharp pricks that bring blood to the surface. Slowly his tongue scoops the beads up. An electric surge jolts straight through his cock. He must close his eyes for a moment as a feral snarl wracks out. Instantly fangs dive in for real. His jaw latches on in a deep locking bite. Blood floods from the wound pouring into his mouth.

The pain from the bite is both searing and euphoric. You cry out, tears welling in your eyes. He’s holding on so tightly you can’t move. Bliss washes over you. There must be something akin to the feeling of ecstasy as he drinks from you.

Your folds flutter and convulse around him.

Remmick may be a starving monster, but he doesn’t drain you. Though his instincts tell him too. He’s been without blood for… honestly, he has lost track. He takes greedy swallows. Big gulps of your warm blood and it runs down his gullet. Pulling back, bright red blood on his lips and chin, his thrust turned erratic. Frenzied bucks slam into you. Cock stretching you impossibly more.

 The muscles lock in his arms and suddenly he surges, supernatural strength flowing, you find yourself splayed on your back pinned under him.

He hooks your ankles around his waist, then his long claws slide under your hips securing you in place. Relentless thrust has his cock burying all the way to the hilt. As he growls, a mix of blood and drool falls down your body. Painting your skin in red splotches. His body is flush to yours, face back at your neck. He moans loudly into your ear.

Heavy hips grind, rocking both of you. His cock pushes deeper through your soaked core. His climax rushes, cock swelling further. Fangs dig back into the wound sucking up more blood. He latches on sucking, drinking his fill.

The loss of blood makes you lightheaded. A dizzying haze coats your eyes. You hear your heartbeat within your ears. Body growing weaker.

He can feel his own cock through your skin, pressing up against your abdomen. It’s truly obscene. A ridge that moves just under the skin is visible with each thrust. Low growls reverberate through both of you. Your moans fuel his drive as he savors the way your body molds to him.

Your hands weakly grip his shoulders, nails doing little to dig into his hard cold skin. Another moan spills from your lips.

“Too much…” You babble through the pleasure filled haze you were in. Your folds shiver and squeeze, desperately sucking in his cock.

“You can take it.” He growls slamming powerful thrust battering your body. The flared head of his cock punched your womb, demanding entrance as he tried to claim you. The fresh blood in his veins sharpened his senses, filled him with strength, erasing human restraint. The vampiric feralness makes his hips snap. An intense need to fill you, to breed you, to mark you.

Ecstasy takes over your mind. You moan and mumble.

The stretch from his cock burns.

“Rem-Remmick.”

The syllables ignite his passion. He cums with a wild jerk. Seed flooding straight to your womb. A huge surge of thick spurts of cum fills every space. That thick cock plugs your hole, sealing the entrance. With no escape the sheer amount pools in your belly making it bloat. The fullness causes another orgasm. Walls spasm and clench down. Pulsing, milking his cock for more. You cum just as hard, release gushing around his buried shaft as you both ride the aftershocks.

His cock softens as his hips still roll lazily, savoring the wet warm insides. Both ride the final jerks of your orgasms before he finally stills. Both of you are breathing heavily. Beneath him you moan weakly, body still convulsing, stuffed full.

“Remmick.” You whisper his name humming.

Remmick withdraws with care. Sliding out slowly, thick shaft dragging along your walls then pulls free with a wet squelch. A powerful clawed hand presses against the swell of your stomach. Rubbing gently, making you exhale contently. The slight pressure has his cum oozing from the open hole. Spilling out falling down your thighs. He watches the lewd scene, memorized, red eyes locked onto your twitching hole. Still trying to clench around nothing, only causing more cum to squeeze out.

You mumble nonsense, mind overwhelmed, floating in a fog.

The burning desire Remmick had reignited. Cock not staying soft for long. Springing rigid back to life. He leans in, face right above yours. His lips meet your kissing gently. You reciprocate tiredly meeting his cold lips with a warm fervor.

“Sweetheart, ya still with me?” He asked quietly.

You nod softly.

“Gonna keep the rest of my promise now. Gonna fill ya right proper.” He inhaled right at your neck which tilts back. “I crave all of ya. E’ery untouched space. Let me fill ya there. Gonna claim ya.”

You didn’t know what he meant. Strong arms roll you over effortlessly. Rolling you onto your stomach. You groan, muscles protesting. Sore, small cuts sting your skin. Pussy still leaking and pulsing.

Long claws trace down your spine petting gently. The tips rake down your back and sides creating fresh small cuts that bled instantly. Remmick immediately, tongue lapping at the blood eagerly. Growling in approval.

Pushing your leg up into a bent position, exposing you fully. You exhale shakily anxiety rising.

Gathering your slick and his cum he smears it generously over your unused asshole. He worked you open slowly. Turning pain into pleasure until you were ready. The red bulbous head breaches your tight virgin hole, and you cry. The stretch burns, tearing you open as he pushes himself in until he’s seated all the way.

Tears fall from your eyes; the stretch is painful. Remmick hisses how tight you wre as he pistons his hips opening you up. It takes some time for the pain to subside and pleasure to set in. Remmick helps by kissing tenderly down your spine. Taking little nips as he does. Claws are constantly on you. Dragging, making cuts that he sips from.

Soon you’re gone. Thrusts are hard and heavy. You cry and moan gripping tiredly to the mattress. He does his best to hush you, but it never fully helps. It does ease the pain. By the time he’s cumming again you’re beyond coherent. Moaning and a hot mess, his hot seed fills every hole. Once again, it has no place to go and your belly swells further. Partly fading in and out from exhaustion you babble nothing. And when he pulls out you cry dry tears. He pets and licks your skin. And then he rolls you back over and places you as comfortably as possible. Covering you up and letting you rest.

The next few days were on repeat. You never left the basement. Fucked and bitten every few hours, not that you minded. Your belly was so swollen you looked pregnant, mind in a sex filled fog. Days bled together. Hours and time of day became irrelevant.

Laid out, resting with slow heavy breaths, naked, and used. Right now, you were alone. Remmick was probably exploring the house above you. You weren’t sure.  Honestly you didn’t care. He did come back to check on you a few times. Your body was littered with soft healing and fresh scratch marks, with the now added bite marks. He had taken to feeding on you. You didn’t mind that either.

Remmick left you to go upstairs, leaving you laid gaped wide open, leaking, and covered in blood. It sparked something inside him to see the red splatter, decorating you. Everything was quiet. Peaceful. You wish it would stay like this. But all good things come to an end.

The wood on the stairs creaked. Light thuds trekking down to the abyss. Normally the steps would be welcome. But not this pair. Losing track of time was easy when there was no brain function available to keep up with it.

Macus reached the bottom of the steps and stopped dead in his tracks. He saw you. Gaped, naked, and on full display. Anger in his eyes, which soon faded to cold dread.

The vampire, where?

The chains lay abandoned on the floor. Collar and muzzle tossed to the wind.

Your boyfriend scanned the basement. As if Remmick would magically be where he had left him. That this was all a dream.

“Stupid bitch.” He whispered under his breath, looking at you. Bloated and full of some other man's cum. Marcus’ lip curled in disgust. He’ll deal with you later. For now, the task of survival was at hand. Recapturing or killing the vampire was a priority. A dangerous game. He slipped out of the basement putting the silver knuckles back on. The only real weapon he had to fight back. Retreating the way he came, maybe he got lucky and Remmick fled into the night. Escaping. However, seeing the position and the way you were used the information told his gut otherwise.

He would be lying to himself if he didn’t feel a sense of fear. Tight fist around the weapon as he stalked through the house. Weapon at the ready. The house was deathly quiet. Controlling his breathing, he tips toed around. Lights were off making it difficult to see. He couldn’t risk turning them on and giving his position away.

That’s where Remmick had the advantage. Vampiric powers. Super hearing—every thud of Marcus’ cold heart. Super smell—picked up on his thick egotistical vile scent. Eyes that could see in the dark. Primed and ready for the man of the hour to come home. A home that he had taken to familiarize himself with. Hours spent intimately every nook and cranny.

When Marcus walked past him in the hall Remmick resists the urge to attack. He wanted to savor this. Glowing red eyes tracking the slow scared steps. Good. He should be afraid. Let him feel the weight.

Holding a breath to listen, the eerie silence scattered his nerves. Checking just about every room, there was no trace or sign. Not that was a relief. The not knowing ate at him. Standing in the doorway of the master bedroom staring into the darkness, thinking. Formulating a plan that would never get a chance to be executed.

Behind your boyfriend stood Remmick. Silent as the grave. Eyes burning hot coals of suppressed anger bore into the back of his head. As Marcus turned around, a split second of processing before everything became a blur. A bloodied clawed hand, faster than a blink, shouted out, grasping Marcus by the face to stifle a yell. Eyes wide, he was falling backwards to the floor with a loud thud. Wind knocked out of him as he gasped for a breath.

Two red dots moving so fast they caused an after image now hovered over him before the white of the ceiling came into view. Claws dug into Marcus’ shirt, and he was thrown upwards from the floor with such speed he crashed face first into the stucco. Gravity brought him slamming back down to the floor with a pained groan.

Limbs moving in a daze, the weight of someone on top of him had him reflectively throw a blind punch. A powerful hand caught his arm; unnaturally long claws wrapped around it.

A sickening snap and a scream rose from your boyfriend’s throat.  

Quickly it was quieted by a palm over his mouth. Remmick had snapped his wrist backwards breaking the bones with a crushing grip rendering it useless.

Marcus flailed and kicked his legs frantically.

The red glow, in the dark, of the vampire’s eyes came closer as Remmick shhh’s him with a fanged grin.

Your boyfriend growled behind the hand.

With a wicked widening grin Remmick straddled the man under him. Pinning his body down. The man thrashed, banging on Remmick’s arm with his good fist. Another snap and agony filled his arm. Tears formed in his eyes. His other wrist had just been broken, leaving him incapable of fighting back. A muffled cry of pain hit with a hot breath against Remmick’s hand.

Arms limp against the floor, body pinned, it finally began to sink in. His fanged grin was as wide as possible. Staring at his prey, when it finally understood the hopeless feeling. He let your boyfriend absorb it all. The horror. The dread. The mental image.

Remmick pale, covered in old blood, naked, sitting on him. The aroma of fear finally became a reality. And he inhaled it like fine wine.

“You're finally seein’ what it’s like when ya have no control.” Remmick hisses coldly, grin turning into a snarl. “To be at the mercy o’ someone. Feelin’ pain, feelin’ hopeless. Feelin’ fear in your gut.” He growled harshly. “All them things ya inflict on others now comin’ tenfold.

His palm and claws wrapped tightly, squishing your boyfriend’s jaw with pressure that threatened to crack bone. “Could have done this in a different way all that time ago. It’s too late now for that. Imma make sure ya fuckin’ pay for it. I’m goin’ to kill ya, that much is certain. But you’re gonna suffer ‘fore ya die. Jus’ as ya made me suffer.”

Marcus wriggled angrily underneath him. Hand’s suppressing words.

“An when I’m done with the two o’ you, you’ll be discarded like the trash humans are.” In a blink his fangs sunk into his shoulder and neck. Tearing at the flesh like a lion ripping into a fresh kill.

A muffled wail escaped Marcus’ mouth.

Remmick made it as painful as possible by ripping a chunk out. Lifting his head up, he spat the piece of flesh out before diving back into the squirting fountain of blood.

Your boyfriend’s head swam and he gurgled on his own blood. Vision getting cloudy, the pain and rapid blood loss was too great his mind couldn’t keep up to what was happening to the body.

Pulling back, Remmick made a face of disgust. “Your blood…. Taste jus’ as vile as the meat sack it came from.” He spat with disdain then dove back in for more. Coated in fresh blood, face to chest, even on his claws, he drank like a starving animal. Blood tasted the same. Sometimes it was sour—if a person was sick. He drank it all. Draining his man was pure enjoyment. Pay back for the months of torture. He drank until every las drop was gone and the man went cold and still. Only then did Remmick sit up.

Face stuck in agony when he died. Remmick’s lip twitched with rage.

“In all my years on this god forsaken earth, humans still ne’er change. Vile in all aspects.” He gathered saliva and spat right into Marcus’ dead face. “Yet, I’m the monster.” Remmick said to himself, rising to his feet. “Fuckin’ waste of space.”

Claws wrapped around the corpse’s ankle as he began to drag the body. Minimal effort, at full strength again, he tugged the corpse down the hall. A trail of blood staining the carpet.

Back in the basement, door kicked open, he proceeded down. Body parts thudding grotesquely hit each step.

The noise stirred your hazy attention, but it made no difference. A foggy haze lays over your eyes. No recognition lay behind them.

Marcus’ head squelched as his body was dragged the final way to the floor.

“Look who jus’ got home.” Remmick laughed darkly, tossing the corpse like a rag doll further into the room. Then he sauntered towards you. An evil look festered in his eyes. “An how we feelin’ darlin’?” He asked, a pause, then laughed crouching down next to you.

“Oh, that’s right. How soon I forget. Your feelin’ jus’ fine ain’t ya. Not a thought behind them eyes.” Remmick tilts his head to the side, eyes tracing over you. “To far gone to e’en realize that I know e’erythin’. Your wants, needs, desires, memories.” He rambled into the air, a level of unhinged derangement stirring in his voice.

“That piece o’ shit had one thin’ right. You are…. Well… we're a dumb bitch. Fucked so good an so hard you didn’ e’er realize that ya died. Sucked ya dry a night or so ago.” He snorts. “Turned ya for the fun o’ it. Jus’ so I could watch the chaos after. An use ua to spy for me when he came back.”

Remmick shrugged non-chalantly.

You leaned towards your creator, and he pet your face with the back of his bloody hand. He never truly cared. It was all a long game. Tugging at your heartstrings, laying on the charm. Adapting to what was needed to survive. For you it was easy. Give you hope. Put on a sad face. Build up this pathetic image of himself. To break you down enough so you would set him free.

It worked so well on you. Your boyfriend, however, saw through it the first time they met. One monster to another. That shared energy had been his downfall. It was pity you never realized—even though your boyfriend was an abusive asshole—that he was trying to protect you in the end.

Oh, well. You and Marcus would be forgotten memories soon. So, it wouldn’t matter. The two of you were made for each other. Sharing death seemed an appropriate outcome.

Bones crunched back into place as your boyfriend’s body healed with newfound life. Turned into a vampire himself. Slowly rising to his feet, with Remmick doing the same, mimicking one another.

Remmick hated that he even came back. Sometimes he wished that people would just die after he feasted. Face scrunching in anger, his new thrall stood at the ready. He already had his fill and had enough being in your presence. Remmick was over it. A guttural growl rumbled in his chest. What to do with the two of you? Then with poetic justice a mental image formed. And through the new hivemind bond his will would be acted out. Leaning down over you he whispered a goodbye.

“Well sweetheart. It’s been fun. Thank ya for your kindness. It really was appreciated.” He pats your face. “But, I’m leavin’ Had jus’ ‘bout all I can take of people for awhile. Well, people in general. Maybe in another life you’ll choose better company.”

And with that he rose to his feet, he paused to clean up and steal some clothes before disappearing into the night.

When the sun rose, his will played out.

Marcus walked over and picked you up. Zombie-like movements, following a pre-set path. Straight upstairs towards the front door. Beams of sunlight signed both of you from uncovered windows. Taking you to the living room, curtains spread wide open in wait, basking the perfect spot in the center. Marcus walked into the direct sunlight. Within seconds the two of you were on fire. Burning in pain until you became nothing but dust and faded memories.

When he settles there with his fingers splayed over your knees, he slowly inhales like he’s trying desperately to stay calm. You lick your lips and finally answer him, reaching down to run your hand through his hair. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough already?” You gently knock your leg against his strained belly to highlight your point, and he winces at the feeling.

“Ngh… Don’t.. Hurts.” He shakes his head, breathless at the feeling. A smirk plays on your lips and you playfully tut down to him.

“Serves you right for stuffing yourself, Rems.” You see him visibly swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his brows furrow up.

“Can’t help it.” His breath catches when you gently slide your shin over the bulge, feeling him flinch before he groans under his breath. You purse your lips at the way his claws dig into your skin, and when Remmick notices, he presses messy kisses to your legs apologetically. “M’sorry, sugar. Just want a taste…”

You wet your lips, the thrill of his claws trying not to grip your legs shoots up your spine. “Maybe you can make it up to me. Then I might let you…” The red in his gaze flickers brighter for a moment as Remmick waits for you to retract the offer. When you don’t, he nods with an understanding, a small, hopeful smile pulling at his lips as he plants firmer, slower kisses to your thighs. He tries to wipe the blood from his mouth before trailing the kisses further up, then he hooks his claws underneath your knees, pulling you towards him with one smooth motion.

You let out a gasp and Remmick’s breath ghosts over you as he takes in the scent of your arousal. “You promise this time?” The temptation to lie presses on your mind, but you suppose you could finally let him have a small taste afterwards. You give him a slow nod, loving the small, hopeful groan that he gives in return. Knowing he’ll struggle without tearing your clothes, you unzip yourself for him enough to slide your jeans down your legs. He removes them and, without saying anything more, licks an unhurried stripe through your panties.

Your breath hitches at the heavy drag of him up to your clit, perfectly rough through the material so you can feel it, before he ducks down to suck your slick through the fabric. You shiver with that, fidgeting in his grasp as he moves your thighs to settle on his shoulders.

His expression turns needy when you breathe out his name, a mix of wanting to drag this out and get you to come as soon as possible so that he can finally get a taste of your blood. The thought of it, along with the sound of his name on your lips, excites him, a heat brushing through him making his length start to twitch. Your fingers get lost in Remmick’s hair when a mix of his fangs and tongue helps to peel the material to the side, sliding loud, wet kisses up to the bundle of nerves. He sounds obscene as he practically makes out with your cunt, and it coaxes small moans that fill Remmick with encouragement. 

You softly inhale at the feeling, gently rocking your hips up against Remmick’s face to get more of the feeling as he gulps down your slick. A muffled moan sounds from him below you, and one of his hands disappears from your legs. You assume it’s to palm his cock, but you don’t hear him unbuttoning his trousers. Instead, his claws slowly splay out over his stomach, groaning at the feeling of him trying to soothe the dull ache from his overfeeding. You peer down in time to catch it, and you feel the prickle of heat thumping against your clit while his tongue circles and strokes at you with a starving pace.

Your brows crease lightly, wanting to put your own hands over his stomach. Your breaths start to quicken as you can only watch his slow, needy movements, as he chooses it instead of relieving the obvious stiffness of his cock. “My greedy boy, so clever with his tongue.” Remmick moans into your folds, red eyes pleading up to you from his spot on the floor. You swear you spot him nod in agreement against you, and you catch his hips flex against nothing while it has your own hips rut against his mouth.

“The thought of my blood… got you all excited, baby?” You try to keep your voice steady, and you feel him shiver against you with the promise of a taste. There was no way you could deny him again; he’d been so patient for it and deserved something. His answer is only a resounding ‘Mmph-!’ as he suckles against you. His claws flex against you, and he eventually moves them to slice your panties apart with a single pull. You gasp at the sight, followed by him tracing one over your entrance. A cold feeling trickles down your spine, and before you can say anything, Remmick lets go long enough to whisper against you.

“Best stay still…” Your thighs tremble lightly at the warning, but you do your best to remain as still as possible as exceptionally slowly, he sinks a claw into your cunt. A whine rumbles out of your chest with the feeling as he stretches your walls out with slow thrusts against them. He grins under you, returning to lap up at you, and you’re forced to let go of him to place your hands behind you for purchase. They ball up into fists and you try your hardest to keep still as warned, the sudden intrusion of a second finger makes it harder to stop your hips from twitching. You feel your eyes go half-lidded as you feel his tongue and fingers working to drag you towards the edge of your climax.

“Rems… I’m-” It’s all the warning you can give him before you feel your abdomen tighten and then snap with a flare of heat, your cunt spasms and clenches around his claws rhythmically as you cry out. Remmick gives a soft chuckle against you when you try to push his head away. He doesn’t let you, continuing to pump his long claws and circle them against you as he drinks you down, mewling into you as he keeps his pace.

You can feel your eyes rolling as you tip your head back, your legs tremble and your stomach muscles tighten desperately as he forces you immediately into another orgasm. “T-Too much! Rem- Stop!” He begrudgingly pulls back, his red eyes looking dazed as drool spilling from his lips. For as tipsy as he looks, Remmick looks a little smug with himself as he slowly removes his claws from you to slide his tongue over them.

The sight has your stomach jerk, and you pat your thighs for him to come up. “C’mon..” He blinks up at you and nods, though it’s sluggish. Remmick slowly creeps up to sit in your lap, legs straddling either side of you and feeling his cock press against you with a small gasp from him.

“My poor baby, all full and still so needy.” Remmick can only nod dumbly to you, mouth slack as he shifts in your lap, letting his stomach push against you too. He frowns a little with the pain, and you move your hands to lightly trace your fingers over it as he places his hands over your shoulders. Your hands find the buttons to his shirt, undoing them for him and sliding the fabric to the side, revealing the white vest that’s already crept halfway up his stomach. The sight has a heat flare up inside you despite him already forcing you over the edge twice.

Your hands are light as you try to rub comforting circles into him, and you notice the way his ears have already turned red as he lets out a small groan. His cock jerks up against you with your movements, and you move a hand lower to finally undo his trousers for him. There’s a gasp from Remmick as you help remove his cock to start stroking him, and then he’s leaning down to capture your mouth with his. You can taste yourself but you couldn’t care less when he starts to whine against you, the combination of your fist pumping his cock, and splaying your other hand over the planes of his belly, drawing all sorts of needy sounds from him.

“I.. I need it, please…” You peer up to see tears starting to well up in his eyes, and there’s the vague noise of his claws scratching into the back of the sofa. Remmick’s hips move against yours, and you feel heat creeping up your own face when each of his thrusts makes his stomach push against you. “Need’ta taste you, please, darlin’.... No more teasin’...”

You bite your lip at that, finally relenting as you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. You hold out your hand, and he stares at you, unsure what you want. “Give me your claw.” His eyes look a little distant, but he’s careful as he obliges, and you reach up with both hands, using his claw to cut a thin line, but deep enough across the side of your hand. The feeling is a cold sting, and Remmick’s eyes go wide as he smells blood; a whimper escapes him when he realises that’s it. No bite. Nothing more than just a cut. “No…” His voice is just above a whisper at the revelation.

“No~?” Your voice lilts as you tease him, knowing it isn’t at all what Remmick wanted. You let go of his claws to hold out your hand for him to have a taste of you, and return one hand to pump his cock. 

His lips visibly tremble with need, and he looks hurt at the offer, but you know he can’t possibly drink much more anyway. A choked sob leaves Remmick, not having much option to argue over it as he leans down to wrap his lips around the small slice on your hand. Immediately, he starts to suckle at the small wound. Your eyes soften at him as his eyes roll into the back of his head, drool pooling in your hand and out and sliding down your arm. Small, staggered whines punch out of Remmick as his cock jumps in your hand, bumping against his full stomach. It’s not nearly enough for him as he desperately tries to suck as much as he can without daring to get his fangs involved. No matter how much they ache to sink into your palm.

You feel his cock start leaking with pre-cum, whining as he ruts pathetically into your fist. The taste of your blood is better than he could have imagined, and his chest aches with a selfish want that he can’t get a real mouthful of it. When he knows he’s exhausted all that he can get, his lips slide off your hand. His head falls onto your shoulder as he wraps his arms around you, whimpers curling in the back of his throat and louder than he means to. The needy sounds get broken by small hiccups as he feels himself getting closer to his release. “‘M close, fuck. ‘m so full, darlin’, hurts so good.”

His breathing is shallow and ragged in your ear as your free hand travels back to play with his bloated stomach. You smooth it over, pinching at him, sinking your hand in, and squeezing underneath to rip low groans from him as his hips start to lose their rhythm. “C’mon baby. You’re so pretty, all big and desperate like this.” Something in the back of his mind tells him he shouldn’t enjoy the feeling so much, but there’s no reasoning with himself. Not as you shower him in praise. “So perfect for me, Rems, gonna be a good boy and come for me?” You feel him nod in response to you before you hear the telltale sign of his claws finding the fabric of the sofa again. 

“O-oh gods… oh gods. Sugar, I’m comin’-” With his hips snapping up into you at a frantic, sloppy pace, you hear his breathing turn to grunts, then filthy, open-mouthed whimpering as his cock spills over into your hand. He shakes in your lap as you help milk him through his orgasm, not stopping until the hitching of his breath dies down to normal. You both stay there like that for a moment, Remmick dazed and muttering something into your skin, and you lovingly tracing the sides of his belly.

He swallows before he gets his mouth to work. “Thought you’d let me drink more…” He says it plainly, but you know he’s disappointed, until your hand strokes a thumb over his stomach as you speak.

“When you’re not so full, you can have more, Rems. Deal?” You say with a light laugh as you stroke your fingers through his hair, knowing it would have been a waste of your blood otherwise. His eyes flutter shut at the feeling, and he nods against you, face burning so much you can feel how warm his cheek is against your shoulder.